The Time Trap
by LEP-Surface Division
Summary: Everything is converging on a single point, he can feel it. He knows that THEY are involved, somehow, in some way. But why? What is there to gain from all this? And, more importantly, what might happen if he doesn't figure all of it out in time?
1. Sour Notes

**A/N: If there's any problems you'd like to see addressed, simply leave it in a review and I'll get to it right away. Seriously, anything. Grammar, spelling, especially anything that seems a little OOC or awkward. I'm trying to keep this as canon as possible, and since I haven't seen all of the movies yet**,** I can't say whether I'll be including them as canon or not. I _can_ say, however, that all of your favorite characters and pairings will make various and numerous appearances. Also, like all of my stories, I'm _completely _open to suggestions, and nothing about this plot outline laying in front of me is set in stone. **

**And lets not forget: I do not own Case Closed/Detective Conan OR Magic Kaito, or any characters included.  
(Shocker, I know.)  
**

**Well, without going on for another month and a half, I think I've said everything I'd like to say. Review so I know what you think! : )**

* * *

The chilly air outside penetrated the thin metal walls of the warehouse, unusually cold even for mid-November. It was not exactly the ideal place for art to be crafted, but an artist by the name of Takasu Ryuji didn't have much choice in the matter. His body wanted to shiver in the cold, but he couldn't allow it. His hands had to move with perfect precision, or else all would be for nothing. The glow from the monitor before him, set on the improvised desk of nearly empty barrels holding any possible number of things, was the only light to be seen in the entire expansive room. Save, of course, for the faint cherry red tip of a lit cigarette, some short ways behind the man's head.

Every few minutes there was the tap of a few keys, but the only sound to be heard at the moment was the harsh beating of his heart. The cursor seemed to have a life of its own as it jumped from one spot of the screen to the next, but in truth, it was all done with the utmost precision. Slowly but surely, the silhouette of a man in a video clip was taking form where there hadn't been one before. It was what he did, after all. He was a CG artist that prided himself on perfection. He never once thought that his dedication to detail could land him in a situation such as this.

That's when a loud voice snapped, making every muscle in his body twitch. "Just how much longer is this going to take?"

"It- Things like this, they take time! I can have it done by morning, easy, but I -"

His quivering response was cut short, not by further angry shouting, but by a calm, emotionless voice. Somehow, the sudden dip in volume was far more frightening than its predecessor. "But, " the voice said, smooth as silk, but something about it penetrated him, burned him straight through. _Just like his namesake,_ his fearful mind spat out. _Gin._ It's then that he noticed the cherry ember fall to the floor before a strong stomp robs it of the last of its life. "It would be so much better for you, if you finished before sunrise."

A knot in his chest, throat tight and difficult to swallow, Ryuji gave the only answer he was capable of. "Y-Yes, sir."

A feral smile stretched over Gin's features, a chill crawling up Ryuji's spine. _Just give them what they want,_ he repeated like a mantra in his head. _And then get the hell out of here!_

As the hours passed in a frigid silence which had nothing to do with the chilly night air, he found various thoughts racing through his head at various times. Surely someone would notice he was missing soon, if they hadn't already. It wouldn't take people long to wonder why he'd never made it home, right? But in his heart, he knew he was only giving himself false hope. Even if he was reported missing, why would anyone ever think to look here? Besides, it hadn't even been five hours since he was grabbed in the parking lot. Even if his wife was worried, no cop would ever go looking for someone who hadn't even been missing a day. And the alternative, that she could show up here herself... He gave his head a stern shake. That was too terrible to even consider.

He could feel the gaze of both men on his back, and it was starting to have an effect on his work. His hand was starting to shake, his lines were starting to grow jagged, and jagged lines meant he'd have to go back a step and start over, costing him invaluable time. And if he didn't get his job done in time... Well, they'd made it very clear that deadlines are named as such for a reason.

Another handful of hours passed and his eyesight was going bleary, both from starring at the screen for such a long time nonstop, and from the exhaustion gnawing at his body. But finally, with only thirty minutes until dawn, he leaned back in his chair with a relieved sigh, running his hands through his hair. "It's done."

Behind him, he could hear the larger of the two men give a quiet chuckle, followed by what sounded like a light bulb being screwed into a socket. Without so much as a word the trigger receives a firm, confident tug. There was a pop, like that of opening a can of soda without the following hiss, and then the sound of a body falling face first onto a keyboard, a single bullet lost somewhere in the confines of the skull. Not that it really mattered where the bullet was at the moment, anyway.

The casing was retrieved, for what it was worth, and a small explosive planted on the side of a barrel which the two men just _happened_ to know was filled with gasoline. In ten minutes, any and all evidence of what had transpired inside that room would be wiped away, turned to so much ash and random bits of bent metal. The purpose of all this effort was tucked safely away inside Gin's pocket. A hard drive, containing an altered camera feed. One that was about to start a chain of actions and reactions longer than the eye could see.

It caused a grin to break out over his face just thinking about it. _This time you won't get away,_ he thought, a flurry of glee coursing through him. _Sherry.  
_

* * *

Conan laid wide awake, watching the red digits of the clock slowly tick towards the time the alarm was set to go off. The reason for his abrupt consciousness, just thirty minutes before, was a sudden surge in a certain _someone's_ snoring. He cast a dark, irritated, but mostly tired glare at the form behind him, sleeping away on a comfortable bed while he had what equated to a thick blanket thrown over the floor. _Oh the generosity of the famed Mouri Kogoro._ It was times like this where he missed some of the simpler parts about being Shinichi. Like his old bed. Or his room. Or-

He stopped that dangerous train of thought. It wouldn't lead to anything good, and after nearly two years he had learned to nip those buds before they blossomed into anything else. Letting out a sigh he threw back his sheet, rising into a sitting position. Without having to look he reached over and grabbed his glasses, stretching silently as he fought off a yawn. Being only five after six, it wasn't even all that early anymore, considering he was usually awake by 6:15. He decided that, for once, it might be good to skip that awful screech. It was always such a sour note to start the day on.

He opened the door slowly, knowing that it often groaned in protest to even the slightest movements, and fearing Kogoro's wrath should he be woken up even five seconds early. It doesn't take long before the door is opened wide enough for him to squeeze his small frame through. _There are still advantages to being Conan,_ he thinks absently, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stifles a yawn, passing by Ran's room, finding the door slightly ajar.

_I really shouldn't,_ he thinks, even as he's taking a silent step closer to the door. Holding his breath, he peeks in through the crack, where his breath catches in his throat. She's laying there, hair spilling out from her like some kind of dark silky halo, pajama shirt pulled up exposing her stomach, blanket laying in a jumbled mess only reaching to her knees. Her mouth was slightly agape, her slow, steady breathing causing her chest to expand and contract. He felt the heat racing to his cheeks, growing hotter and somehow more pleasant with every second he stayed outside her door.

It was then he saw her moving, her face contorting into a look of fear, desperation, and her lips moving in the same rhythm again and again. If only he could hear what she was saying...

He hadn't noticed that he'd been leaning on the door until it fell open, Conan himself similarly winding up falling face first onto the beige carpet. But it was worth the stinging pain in his nose when he caught a breathy whisper. He strained himself to make out her gasps. They left him feeling like a hollowed shell. "Shinichi. Come back." In whatever dream she was having, whatever was upsetting her so much, he was right at the center of it. The cause of her pain, whatever form it was in, was centered around him. "Shinichi."

He'd already risen back to his feet before the words had registered, but once they had, he stood stock still, ashamed. He felt like he was violating her privacy on some deep, personal level, by listening to her. By listening to the words that she didn't intend for him to hear her utter. But that wasn't everything. Not by a long shot. He was ashamed for everything that had happened, whether it was out of his control or not didn't matter. If only he hadn't left. If only... _Buds,_ he thought. He gave his second sigh of the day, at a time when he'd normally not even be awake. Today looked to be promising.

It was then that the wretched alarms filled the air. By the time Ran had opened her eyes, Conan was long gone, her door left exactly as he had found it.

_I suppose some things never change,_ he thought sullenly. _Weekdays always start on a sour note._ He took position in the kitchen, fully prepared to act like he was trying to find something for breakfast when the two Mouri's walked in. _Some, worse than others._


	2. Elementary

**A/N: Wow, this story has actually gathered quite a bit more attention than what I thought it would! Several people added it to their alerts, and even more to their favorites. I simply hope the following chapters don't disappoint. **  
**Again, point out any problems as soon as you see them, and I'll get them fixed up. Even if it means I have to do a bit of reshuffling throughout the whole chapter, I'd rather put in the extra time and have my story in character than just let my story look lazy.**

**Also, a shout out to Chelseaj500 for the review! It was certainly a part of getting this chapter up so fast! (Though this I'm sure will be the exception, not the rule. ^_^ It usually takes me much longer to get out this much.)**

* * *

Well, he'd been mostly right. The day hadn't been terrible, and Genta had been the source of a couple of laughs over lunch, but mostly his mind wondered. Learning division didn't really keep his mind occupied for long, and his thoughts kept turning back to that morning. He'd told the Detective Boys that he'd had a headache all day long, which gave him an excuse both for what he was sure had to have been odd, distant behavior and for heading home right after school let out.

With a relieved sigh, he could finally make out the lettering of the Detective Agency, knowing that soon, he might just be able to close his eyes for more than a few minutes without being interrupted. As he approached the stairs, he found himself massaging his neck, and realized that he actually did have a headache coming on. He wouldn't even need to lie to Ran again in order to be left alone. He tensed in realization just before grabbing the nob. He'd been willing to lie to her, just like that. Sure, it wasn't a big lie, but it was a lie nonetheless. He wrestled with his emotions, before finally being able to smooth his features into his usual calm expression. From there, a smile wasn't much harder. It would be the acting in front of the Mouri's that might be difficult. He took one last breath, then threw the door open, looking to all the world like a happy, energetic 8 year old just returning from school.

"I'm home!" Conan yelled as the door fell shut behind him. But as it turned out, he needn't have bothered with the show. Kogoro was asleep on the couch, empty beer cans laying just out of the reach of his limp arm dangling above the floor, the tv showing a rerun of some Yoko special. Ran didn't seem to be home yet, which was strange, but also not a first. Ran's school was closer, and she got out ten minutes before he did, so she almost always beat him home. Typically when she didn't, it was because Sonoko had dragged her off shopping somewhere. And usually, the only time that Sonoko takes Ran anywhere before letting her return home to clean up a little is when she's had a bad day. Instantly, images of that morning poured into his head, his heart stinging painfully in his chest. _I'll call her tonight,_ he decided. _It has been a while._

He looked over at the snoring old man, and suddenly Shinichi's phone in his pocket felt ten times heavier. _Or I could call her now. After all, there's no way this guy's gonna wake up any time soon, and I doubt Sonoko will let her rest for a couple hours anyway._ He hesitated, just for a second, hand half buried in his pocket, before he pulled out Shinichi's phone and began to turn the dials on his bowtie.

He hit 2, speed-dial taking care of the rest. And just as his finger floated over the SEND button, something happened that he hadn't taken into consideration. A phone started to ring. For a second, he thought it was his, even holding it up to his ear. Quickly though he realizes that it wasn't his phone, but the office phone that's ringing. It seems the first ring was able to rouse Kogoro from his sleep, a feat worthy of considerable merit on its own. With a slight sway in his step he walked over toward the desk over the second, third and fourth rings, nearly tripping at the fifth. The still not-so-sober detective grabbed the handset before the sixth ring, bringing it up to his ear. "Mouri Detective Agency!" His words were slightly slurred, due to either the alcohol or only just moments ago being asleep, or more likely, a combination of the two.

It wasn't until he could make out a faint, funny noise that he realized he'd been holding the phone upside down. "Hello? Is anyone there!" A clearly agitated feminine voice shouted. The detective held the phone back for a moment, his ear still ringing. Conan used the distraction it offered to sneak closer to the conversation so that he could hear both ends. "This is detective Mouri, what can I do for you?" His tone might have been a little on the strained side, but the other person didn't seem to notice.

"Thank god, finally someone answers!" There's an exasperated breath taken on the other end, and then "I'm sorry, that's the stress talking. Just -" With a slight movement of Kogoro's head, Conan hastily retreated to his earlier position near the couch, pretending to be interested in whatever it was that was on tv as the detective looked around for a pen, the volume from the cosmetics commercial drowning out whatever the client said next. It wasn't much though, for after a few quick strokes of a pen, the handset was dropped unceremoniously back onto its cradle. After a second to fold the paper and shove it into his pocket, the detective sent a cursory look around the room, apparently confused at what he found. Or rather, didn't find. "Hey brat, where'd Ran run off to?"

"Don't know, " Conan said in his most child-like tone. "I think she probably went shopping with Sonoko-neechan." With a somewhat disinterested grunt, he looked around the house again, thinking. _Take it easy there Oji-san. Don't strain yourself._

"Well then..." his eyes fell square on Conan's own, making it obvious what he was thinking about. Leaving Conan home by himself, versus taking him along without Ran to watch over him. Ran had left him home alone plenty of times, but that was the thing. _Ran_ had, and apparently, she'd done it either against Kogoro's wishes or without ever talking about it at all. _What's he think I'm going to do anyway? Throw a party while he's out? Erase his Yoko collection?_

Finally, after a few seconds of silence, Conan reached into his pocket and held his phone open between them. "Why don't we call her and find out!"

* * *

Detective Takagi was sitting at his desk, trying his best to find the one common thread, the one piece of evidence, the one statement that would point him in the right direction. And failing. The frustration was only compounded by the fact that so few cases these days ever actually wound up with any actual desk work. He was used to being out at the crime scene, finding the clues only hours, even minutes, after a crime had occurred. And usually, the case was solved right then and there, on the spot, at the crime scene. _Though usually that's only because Mouri-san is involved somehow,_ he reminds himself. It seemed like he hadn't had a case where the detective hadn't somehow been involved since before the discovery of fire. But after so long, Kogoro was finally absent from not just one crime scene, but three, and because of it Takagi was having to solve it the old fashioned way. With hard work.

_Even the kid is better than I am half the time,_ he thought. Clearly, he wasn't in the best of moods at the moment. He hadn't even really meant it when he'd thought it. But, now that the thought had invaded his thinking space, it dawned on him that it was true. Sure most of the time he'd have some transparent excuse ready, usually the _'I saw it on tv!'_ excuse, or _'That's what Shinichi-neechan said!'_, and he'd have no choice but to give an embarrassed laugh for not noticing what had been so easily pointed out and consider what the child had said. But everyone else seemed to take those excuses at face value, when it was quite clear to him that they most certainly should not. Now completely sidetracked from his work, he decided that maybe allowing himself to think about something else was exactly what he needed at the moment.

_Do they really believe him?_ he wondered. It was true that he seemed perfectly innocent at times, but when the boy 'accidentally' revealed something pertinent to the case, there was always that look in his eye, and that sly smirk that would stretch across his face once everyone caught on. Not to mention all the times that he'd started to give spot-on deductions, only to stop with a nervous expression part way through. He would look so serious when he'd reveal those few crucial elements to the elusive secret, and talk in a way unlike any child Takagi had ever seen before. It was the same look he'd had on his face, that time in the elevator.

_I'll tell you... In the afterlife._ The words still sent chills down his spine. Wasn't that a confession, right there? That he wasn't who he seemed to be? That he was something more than just an ordinary elementary student? _Wait,_ he thought, sudden inspiration striking. _Elementary..._

He took renewed focus on the case, reviewing all that'd happened so far. The first victim had been struck and killed with a rock. The next had been suffocated with a plastic bag. The third had been drowned. Earth, wind, water... Fire! He jumped from his chair with sudden realization, his wordless shout of triumph attracting stares like a moth to the flame. _I got it!_ He was cheering again and again in his thoughts as he raced out of the office. _It's got to be the butler! He's the only one with the motive!_ All other thoughts completely forgotten, Takagi rushed off to bring justice to a man who nearly got away with murder.

* * *

**A/N: That's right, I made Takagi suspicious of Conan. But seriously, how can the guy not be? Oh well, let me know what you think of the development. **  
**I know not much has happened with Conan yet, but don't worry, everything will come together.**


	3. The Vanishing Man: Paper Trail

**A/N: Hello everyone! Know what I just noticed? So far, every chapter of this story has been split into two sub-chapters. I haven't been doing that intentionally, but nonetheless, this chapter is just the same. (Though the second part is long enough to be a chapter all by itself. I just didn't have any good places to stop it at, and it kept getting longer, and longer, and looonger...)**

**Anyways, same old message as usual. If you have ideas you'd like to see worked into the story, see mistakes, or see a spot of writing that would sound better if I did _'this' _instead of _'that'_, let me know! : ) And of course, if you don't have any of those things, still feel free to review. It certainly makes an author's day. **

**Chelseaj500: Wait no longer! :P**

**ZXCVBNMEM: Oh don't worry about that, it's nothing important. Merely a case that Takagi was working on, and not really important to the story. That whole part was mostly to 'introduce' Takagi, if you will, to this story and so that people have an idea of what it's like inside his head.**

* * *

"Sonoko! Wait up!" Ran was only met with one of the blond's cheeky grins as she continued on to wherever it was she was going without showing even the faintest hint of slowing her pace. Ran was stuck carrying the majority of the bags while Sonoko had barely anything heavier than a pencil slung over her shoulders. _"You're the strong one!"_ the blond girl would insist. And then she'd take off through the mall, headed toward the next glass-fronted boutique she could find. "Ooh! This place looks nice!"

"Sonoko!"

She grinned ear to ear as she waited for the brunette to amble over, dropping the heavy bags at her feet once the distance had been closed, stopping to catch her breath. She was happy to see that Ran's entire attention was focused right there, in that second, and nowhere else. It was exactly what she'd set out to do, and exactly what always worked. Any time that detective jerk weighed down Ran's mind, Sonoko'd take it upon herself to clear her head. _Because that's simply how wonderful of a friend I am!_ she thought, her grin twisting into more of a self-appreciative smirk.

It was that moment that Ran's phone started pleading for attention, its ringer going off at full volume. Still, it was only just audible over the flux of conversation going on around them. _Shinichi._ It was the first thought that entered both of their minds, though met with varying reactions ranging from annoyance to a strange fusion of relief and boiling rage. But when she looked, she found it was only Conan. _Only Conan,_ the thought echoed. She felt terrible for thinking that, how could she even let that thought form? _What's up with me today? What if I'd answered the phone like that? God, he'd be so upset if he ever knew that I'd just thought that. How could I ever-_

"Uh, Ran?" Sonoko broke her out of her trance, pointing to the vibrating phone as she raised an eyebrow. "You gonna get that?"

Letting out a sound of surprise, Ran raised it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" Upon hearing the gruff, slightly slurred voice, Ran let out an exasperated sigh through her nose.

"What is it?" Sonoko asked tentatively, a combination of confusion and concern filtering into her tone. Normally Ran seemed a little bit brighter whenever the boy was around. Kudo had had almost the same effect on her, whenever he was around, back in what seemed like the middle-ages now. It was weird in her opinion, but hey. Whatever works, works, and she wasn't about to question it. Ran really did deserve her happiness, even if that smile was caused by an annoying four-eyed twerp.

"Dad, are you drunk again?" she asked, bringing a palm up to press against her forehead. She could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. As the time stretched on without an answer, though in reality it was likely no more than a second, a hint of steel creeped into her voice. "What have I told you about drinking during work hours?"

"Daih!" Incoherent as it was, it was at least an answer. "Well, I, uh... Hehe..."

"Dad!"

Sonoko could only watch in mild amusement. They had the strangest father-daughter relationship she'd ever seen. Half of the time, Ran was more like the man's wife than his daughter. _Or maybe his__ mother would be a closer match,_ she thought. Then added _and way less creepy. I think._ Sonoko moved closer just in time to hear a rush of static, a few quick words being exchanged on the other side, and then "Hello Ran-neechan!"

"Conan, did my father just hand you the phone?" Sonoko noted that while still firm, her voice had taken on a much more motherly tone. _Maybe wife _would be_ more correct after all?_

"Yep! He said to ask you when you'd be home."

"Asking a child to do your dirty work," she muttered, just low enough for Conan not to hear. Or, so she thought. On his end, a grin was being viciously fought off to keep it from surfacing. "I can be home in ten minutes, just let me finish things up here."

Ran's voice was more like an exasperated sigh than anything else, and she was just about to end the call when she heard "Alright, I'll tell Kogoro-ojisan! Bye Ran-neechan!" She found herself grinning at the boy's infectious, upbeat tone, and could see his bright smile as plainly as if he were standing in front of her.

"Bye, Conan-kun."

Sonoko stared for a moment. That was it. All day at school, Sonoko had been trying to get Ran to smile like that. A genuine, carefree smile. She'd been working at it for close to an hour now not even counting her efforts during school, trying all of the tricks she had up her sleeve and coming up empty. It had taken the brat in glasses all of ten seconds, and the girl might as well be giggling.

Apparently the surprise was evident on her face. Also apparent, was the fact that Ran misinterpreted her thoughts as something along the lines of _"I can't believe you're just leaving me here!"_, because apologies were quick to follow. "I'm sorry Sonoko, it looks like something came up." Even though Sonoko knew full well that Ran wasn't getting much of anything out of this shopping spree, she still seemed honestly sorry that she had to be leaving. "Maybe we can come finish tomorrow?" Ran continued, hoping her friend wasn't too mad.

Waving off her apologies, she said "Don't worry about it, get out of here." Wink added for emphases, she added "and tell the brat that he shouldn't let grumpy old men use his cellphone."

Ran gave a quiet laugh, her mood dramatically altered in the last three minutes, then everything dropped as realization hit. "Sonoko!"

She snickered at Ran's indignant stomp of her foot, then waved her away. "Kidding, kidding. You're going to be late for your date if you don't hurry."

Somewhere nestled between frustration and amusement, the sound was likewise something like the mutant child of a groan and a laugh. Then she was jogging away, the heavy bags once more slung over her shoulder, turning back once to give Sonoko a parting wave, then disappeared into the sea of weaving bodies.

* * *

A ten minute walk, ten minutes getting ready, and a twenty minute car ride later, Ran, Conan and Kogoro were stepping out of a rented car, scattered gravel crunching underfoot. They were just outside of the city limits, far enough away so that the crime and noise wouldn't be too much of a concern, but not so far away that they'd have to pack an overnight bag to head to the grocery store. The old house had an air to it suggesting that it was well loved and taken care of; The surrounding brush portrayed just the opposite impression. The tall trees growing throughout the property limited the trio's field of vision to hardly more than a dozen meters, Conan's even less, and that was with the sun shining at an angle that wasn't easily blocked by their limbs. He could only imagine what the place would be like at night.

He stopped to take in the space around him, mostly to make a mental map of the outside of the house. They'd come in handy before. However, it was once he was done observing how many windows and where they were situated that he turned his gaze groundward. The driveway, if it could be called that, consisted of mostly gravel. There were intermittent spots of grass growth, as well as more than a few weeds. However, he noticed, there was a rectangle of the driveway where there was no growth at all. The gravel there was significantly finer than the rocks that surrounded it, indicative of a car frequently parking there, crushing the gravel and shading the spot from the sun. It fit perfectly with a thought that had been bugging him since they'd arrived. Living this far out of the city, they'd certainly need a car. However, the vehicle had been absent. However it seemed it was merely being used at the moment.

A faint chime breaking him out of his thoughts, he realized that Kogoro had already pressed the doorbell. Once Conan had taken to Ran's side, it was only moments before a middle-aged woman had drawn the door half open. "Mouri-san, " the woman greeted with a bright smile. Bright, that is, if you happened to actually believe the smile to be genuine, which it most certainly was not. Kogoro gave a short nod, or perhaps a very shallow bow, before her eyes came to rest on the two younger guests at her door. "Oh, and you brought children, " she said with just enough false hospitality lacing her tone to keep from seeming outright hostile. It didn't take a detective's eye to see that she had expected a one-on-one meeting with the famed gumshoe, and was less than pleased with the turn of events.

The woman turned around with an air of importance, then started marching towards a sitting area. While unspoken, the message "Follow me" might as well have been taped to her back. _Most likely written in a large, red, jagged font,_ Conan thought with the barest hint of humor. _Possibly with more than one exclamation mark._

"My name is Aisaka, " she spoke without turning to look at her guests as she addressed them. Ignoring her for the most part, Conan took in all the details he could absorb as he passed; pictures, mostly. Most of them were of children, probably Aisaka's. _And probably grown,_ he thought. After all, the house seemed empty except for the four of them. However, his instincts were pointing him away from the smiling faces of the children and to the older man that appeared intermittently. He couldn't imagine that the man could be anyone other than the Aisaka's husband.

"Please take a seat, " the woman said, the forced smile on her lips seeming to fall slightly. "The tea will be ready shortly." Once the door was shut, Ran did as she was asked, taking one side of the two-seater settee. The family room they seemed to be in now had a sparse few seats, arranged so that they all faced the rather small, outdated looking television set against the far wall. Kogoro took the place beside her, and Conan was left standing next to the oval coffee table that held only an ash tray, stuck in between the settee and an old rocking chair, which went without saying was reserved for the woman.

It was only a moment before Ran noticed the slight problem with the seating arrangements. "You can sit up here with me, Conan-kun, " she said brightly.

_Crap._ This was always so distracting. And yet, somehow, wonderfully so. It was frustrating in its own unique way. Usually something that was labelled 'distraction' was not also labelled 'pleasant', yet this fit both categories snugly. It was an exception to the norm, a bump in a stream of regular logic, and even if his thoughts weren't completely in the gutter once he was on her lap, it would still be a hindrance to his usual, logical flow.

But then she lowered her arms toward him, her hands closed around his middle, and his brain went into panic mode. She lifted him bodily through the air as he tried to wiggle out of her grasp, before setting him on her legs. She draped her arms over his shoulders letting them cross in front of his chest, pushing him against her. The back of his head right next to her soft, round, supple...

The door to the kitchen creaked open as the client returned, a tray of white and baby blue floral printed tea cups held in both hands. Her timing couldn't have been better. There was already a light sheen of sweat that had collected near his hairline, and he was almost certain that blood was pooling in his cheeks. _Focus,_ his mind yelled at the rest of his unruly brain. _Cold shower, soccer stats, rigor mortis, Ochan in a bikini - AH!_ He visibly flinched at that thought. _Ok, that was a little overkill._

The woman set one cup of the warm, sloshing liquid in front of each guest on the coffee table before taking to her chair. She blew the hot liquid in an effort to cool it down, taking a tentative sip a moment later. A sort of awkward silence followed, in which there was only the loud slurping of tea from the client siting next to them. Clearing his throat after a few moments, Kogoro finally brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Which was, ironically enough, that they didn't know what that matter was.

"So, " he began. Even with his abilities of perception, there was no way for Conan to know exactly what it was that the detective was about to follow that up with. It usually ranged from cliche to outright embarrassing, to some times bordering on harassment if the client happened to be attractive enough. Maybe he shouldn't care, but it was hard for him not to cringe when the man made a fool of himself. After all, Conan was as much Sleeping Kogoro as the man himself, maybe even more so.

"What can I do for you?" Conan let out a silent breath. The man had actually managed to sound somewhere in the neighborhood of professional.

"My husband left to retrieve a paper of some sort from his office, just before 7:30 last night." Aisaka's voice was short, concise, and had a sharper point than an arrow. "He's yet to return home and I want _you_, Mouri-san, to tell me why."

Conan's eyebrow had risen, just a centimeter or so, towards the end of her last sentence. The emphasis on _-san_ seemed a little too harsh, not to mention most of the clients these days used the more respectful honorific -sama instead. Most of what followed could be equated to blind shots in the dark on Kogoro's part, asking one question after another, and getting little in the way of an actual answer. For the most part it seemed like he was talking in circles, though Conan was able to sift out some useful information from the heaping mounds of unrelated facts and half-truths eventually.

Her husband's name, Kazuma Aisaka, age, 52, and occupation, a physics professor at a nearby university. However Conan was getting the feeling that there was more to the situation than the woman was letting on. Her short, concise tone continued on, even using it when she answered most of Kogoro's inquiries, most of which didn't really answer the question at all. Some times she'd out right refuse to answer a question at all.

The way that she'd treated them played through his mind as a few different pieces nearly clicked into place. They were so close, and at the same time, didn't fit together at all. Aisaka clearly wasn't _enjoying_ their company, yet she was putting up a front to try not to show it. _That probably means she's getting desperate,_ he thought. _Or has planned this meeting out for some reason or another. She could very well be trying to use us as an alibi of some sort._ Without his notice, his face slid into a calculating gaze that no true eight year old could ever hold, and it was only luck that his eyes were hidden behind his bangs and the glare from his glasses.

_But that doesn't tell me what she has against us, or at least against Occhan. Or _why_ she's desperate in the first place. And desperate for what?_ He chewed his thoughts over a little more as tea was sipped and the tension in the room seemed to grow thicker. _Foul play maybe? If she'd killed her husband, she could be hoping to take herself off the radar by bringing in a detective to find him._ No, that just didn't sit right. She was nervous, but not in a way that suggested she was trying to cover up a murder. More like, she felt she was doing something wrong, and was about to be reprimanded at any moment. But that was merely another question in and of itself. _Speculating at this point is worthless,_ he told himself. _We don't have any evidence pointing to anything. We just have to be patient, and maybe check out this university. That paper might still be there.  
_


	4. The Vanishing Man: Up In Smoke

**A/N: Another chapter for you guys! Probably the last one for a while. For my non-American readers, the 24'th is a holiday, and company is coming over today, so I won't have many chances to jot down a sentence, let alone a chapter. Also, as a result, this chapter still feels a little rushed to me, and I wish I could have polished it a little more, but this is all the time I have to get one up before next week at the earliest. Of course, feel free to point out any spots that _you _think need more polishing, and I'll get to them just as soon as time permits.**

**Chelseaj500: Haha well, I have all of the arcs plotted out for a while now, but since the mysteries haven't even played out all that much yet, I'll take it to mean the little details that get thrown in there. Those just get made up in the spur of the moment as I'm writing. **

* * *

The previous day's meeting with Aisaka had yielded little in the way of information, and after they'd long since left the client's house behind the only real lead they had to follow up on was the document that Kazuma had apparently left in his office. One of the few things that Aisaka had been willing to divulge was the name of the university, Nanyo, which at least gave them a place to start.

Mercifully they hadn't stayed much longer, and even Kogoro was able to figure out where they needed to go next. They'd arrived not 10 minutes later, nearing 6:30. Kogoro approached the main door, giving it a few solid thumps with his fist. "Hello!" he yelled, fist still hammering against the glass. "Open up! I'm here on the request of Aisaka-san!" Conan stood to the side, giving him a sideways glance. _Saying it like that is deceptive, at best._

The shadows inside the building shifted, and soon enough the silhouette of a man came into view. Kogoro's apparent efforts to shatter the glass redoubled, but receded once the muffled sound of a key being slipped into a lock could be heard. The door swung outward, causing them all to take a step back, before a set of beady little eyes peered out at them from under a security guard's cap. "Who are ya and whadda ya want?" he barked, a strong Kansai Ben accent immediately apparent. "Everyone's gone home, ya jus' missed 'em, so if ya here to complain about ya daughter's grades, ya can come back t'morrow."

Kogoro and Ran, seemingly shell shocked from the man's sudden outburst, stood stock still as he tried to shut the door. But when a certain red shoe wedged itself in the doorjamb, Conan found three sets of eyes staring down at him. "Actually mister," Conan started in with the big-eyed and innocent look. "We're friends of Kazuma-san's, and we're here to pick up a paper he forgot. Can we come in and get it really quick? I promise we won't be any trouble!" _Well, if Occhan can..._

As if noticing him for the first time - and by the way he craned his neck down to look at him it very possibly could have been - the security guard gave him a once over. "Friends o' Kazuma-san's, eh?" The guard lifted up his cap to scratch his thinning hair, then smoothed it back in place. He seemed to think it over for a minute, then "Fine, be quick wit it. I can't follow ya 'round here all night ya know."

He turned his back as he threw the door open, not caring to make sure he wasn't going to hit anybody, and headed toward the opposite hallway at a leisurely pace. Kogoro took a moment before stepping inside, his mind apparently still catching up to what was going on, then took off to close the growing distance between them. Conan went to follow when suddenly he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. "Nice job," Ran whispered. He looked up to find her leaning over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at the side of her lips, and his heart skipped a beat. From this angle, he could easily make out the stars shining behind her, giving her a strange sort of ethereal beauty as the light danced through her hair. And she was so close... "Once again, your quick thinking saved the day."

"Uh, well, I, uh, hehe..." Conan gave her a big cheesy smile, rubbing the back of his head. _I guess I was right this morning. At this rate, I might need an antidote again before the end of the week._ Brain finally realizing that he'd yet to formulate a response, he just went with the closest thing to the truth he could think of. "It was nothing! Aunt Yukiko's taught me a lot things during her visits!"

"Oh? Is that so?" Ran straightened up again, her smile growing more prominent as she went to follow Kogoro and the guard inside. "Lets not let them get too far ahead, Conan-kun. We wouldn't want to get left behind, now would we?" The hand on his shoulder fell away, and he couldn't help but feel like it was taking a little piece of himself with it. That is, until it closed around his own hand, giving it a squeeze before slipping into the building, following the echoing footsteps.

It took him a moment, what with his heart pounding in his ears and all, to make out something that wasn't quite right. He held his breath, listening to the sounds bouncing around the halls. The footsteps, they were off, somehow. He listened a little more intently. _That's definitely more than two pairs._ He glanced down a dark offshoot as they passed it by, and though he didn't see anything, he definitely heard it. Without a doubt, someone else was in the building. _Maybe it's another guard? It's unlikely that there'd only be one man in the entire main building. Maybe he's out looking for the other guy, trying to figure out what's taking him so long?_ It seemed logical enough. It might even just be true.

That's when both of the footsteps they were trailing suddenly picked up speed to a solid sprint, the pounding echo all the incentive the two of them needed to do the same. _Right, and Ayumi kicks kittens for the fun of it. Why can't we ever just have a peaceful night?_ Conan and Ran were just rounding a corner when the smell of smoke smacked him solid in the face as the third set of footsteps he'd heard just moments ago played through his mind. More than likely already knowing what he was going to find, the roles of who was pulling who switched, Conan now in the lead tugging firmly at her hand.

"Conan-kun, what're you doing?" she asked, nearly tripping over her own feet as her balance was thrown off by his sudden role reversal.

Before he could answer her, though, Kogoro's voice boomed through the air. "Ran! Call a firetruck!" A beat passed, where the sound of something heavy slamming into something else could be heard, followed by the tinkling of shattering glass. "And an ambulance! Now!"

* * *

Luckily, the fire was contained, and the damages were only limited to the one room. However, the damages were, in a word, everything. There were so many papers and other easily flammable items spread throughout the room, once it started, there was no stopping it. But by far the focal point of the incident was the body behind the small desk, bound and gagged, sitting in a charred leather chair with its covering peeling back to expose the foam inside, the plastic bottom melted and twisted to the point that the whole chair was tilted sideways. The ropes holding the victim in the chair had mostly burned away, leaving the body free-standing, giving the whole thing the impression of some kind of gruesome depiction of Hades on his throne.

Forensics were crawling all over the place, taking pictures and samples, while Megure, Chiba and Takagi stayed over by the door. Conan couldn't help but notice the odd glance here or there that Megure would fix on Kogoro. Eventually the three broke apart; Chiba went running out of sight, Takagi went over to talk to Tome as he was reviewing some things with a few other forensics officers, and Megure walked over toward them. "Mouri-san. What a surprise." His sarcasm would have given Haibara a run for her money. He sighed, continuing on. "So, tell me, what brings you three here?"

"Aisaka-san, that is, Kazuma-san's wife, asked us to investigate him. It appears he's been missing for some time now, and she wanted the famous Mouri Kogoro to find him! So, we came to investigate his office, but, when we got here, " he gestured to the burnt room in general, not bothering to elaborate.

With an indifferent grunt, the Inspector eyed him for another moment, then went on his way. He started to grumble to himself, voice low and incomprehensible. Conan imagined his words were probably somewhere along the lines of "Some days, Mouri-san, I seriously wonder if criminals really don't just follow you around."

"Ah, did you find it?" Takagi asked, realizing a moment too late that he'd spoken just a decibel too loudly.

As could be predicted, not even a second later Conan was peering at the plastic bag held out between the two officers. Inside was the remains of a cigarette, burned until it was nearly unrecognizable. "Is that what started the fire, Takagi-keiji?" he asked.

"Most likely," the man said with a nod, pointing a white gloved hand towards the side of the desk, long since having abandoned any misgivings about letting the boy in on the details of the case. "It was on top of that stack of papers in the trash there."

Conan looked in the implied direction, taking in the small, badly warped plastic bin. There was a pile of ashes in the bottom, but nothing that looked like it could ever be read again. "Oh?" He asked, crestfallen eyes turning back to the detective. "There weren't any important papers in there, were there? That's what me and Kogoro-ojisan came to look for. Aisaka-san said that her husband was really upset because he couldn't find an important paper last night, and he thought he'd left it here. He got in the car and left. But you know what the weird thing is, Takagi-keiji? He never came back."

Takagi's hands twitched just slightly as the boy's registry rose into that high pitched, childish tone, and he spoke like he didn't have a clue in the world as to what was going on. He was just doing that... that... _thing_ again, whatever it is that that _thing_ was.

"Sir!" a voice called out from somewhere in the middle of the room. Nearly every eye turned to look at him. "Uh, I mean... Inspector Megure." Most of the eyes turned away, but Conan, Kogoro and Takagi kept their attention fixed on him. "We've IDed the deceased as one Isao Watari. He has several outstanding warrants for his arrest on charges ranging from bribery to attempted murder. Allegedly he runs several local gambling rings, and has recently started giving out loans with interest rates as high as sixty percent."

"So he was a loan shark," Megure commented, taking notice of the large watch on the victims right wrist. It was covered in black soot on top, but not much had settled on the bottoms of the side edges, allowing some of the gold to peek through. "So the question is, who tied him up and lit the place on fire?"

"Maybe, but then," Conan asked, tone sliding towards serious and further away from his childish tones of moments ago, drawing the attention of those who'd just been listening to the officer's exchange. "Why do you think a loan shark would be in Aisaka-san's office to begin with?"

The Inspector was silent for a second, then, "Takagi-kun! Find out what you can about the Aisaka's financial situation. See if they've deposited any unusually large sums lately."

Takagi glanced at the boy to his side once again, as if this time he'd be able to see through the facade and to the truth beneath. He, of course, did not. "Yes sir!" he called with a quick, sloppy salute, then hurried out into the hall to look for somewhere a little more quiet to conduct his business. And to clear his head so that he could focus on what he was doing.

Conan's attention, though, was far from the detective as he hurried out into the hall, nearly running into Chiba as he brought a report up to the inspector. It was focused on the look that Ran was sending his way. One that Takagi had just so closely mirrored moments ago. _Crap. I just did something again, didn't I?_


	5. The Vanishing Man: Suspicions

**A/N: Once again, you have asked, and I have provided. **

**Now, you all remember how every chapter I write out this big thing on "Hey guys! If this sounds OOC/Unrealistic/Third thing or there's some part that you just don't like, lemme know!"? Come on! It hasn't been that long, now has it? I thought not. Well, that still stands. Especially as I start giving out some deductions. If you don't understand them, well, how many times have we been able to guess the outcome of a case before its end? I bet they could be counted on your hands, right? But! If you _do _get the deductions, and they seem like outlandish exploitations of this wonderful series, that, too, would be good to know. Why? So that I can chop the chapter to pieces and paste it back together again, hopefully in a more pleasing manor, of course.**

**... Well, that made sense as I was typing it. Short version: Add "unrealistic deductions" to the aforementioned list.  
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**Now, on to my reviewers! (And take this as a little reminder to review yourself. Please and thank yooooou. ^_^)  
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** -In order of appearance-**

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**Chelseaj500: Haha well, I don't know how soon this is, but I updated at least. :P And I took a look, left a review.  
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**Serial-Doodler: Thank you for your kind words. And, if you know any Detective Conan readers... hehehe.**

**blue-espeon: Now _THAT _is exactly the kind of review I've been talking about. Thank you very much! I have (hopefully) addressed those issues, and barring the slip of habit, hopefully you shouldn't see them again. I've also gone back and revised all the chapters so far. (So, uh, guys, don't freak if the chapters look a little different. I frequently do little spelling fixes too, and you wouldn't be the first reader to think that I edit my chapters every other day to include new details or something. :P)**

**Thriefty: Glad to hear it! And let me know if any suspicions _do _seem unfounded. This is my first shot at any kind of story like this, so I'm still learning as I go.**

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If you hadn't been there since the beginning, it might have looked like the crime scene was in a state of utter disorganized chaos with no pattern or reason to guide it. If you _had_ been there since the beginning, then you knew it was more than just appearances. They had almost nothing in the way of evidence. What they did know, was that the cigarette surely didn't have any fingerprints remaining, and anything the culprit might have touched had long since withered away under the heat of the blaze. Every scrap of paper in the room, from the documents on the desk to the post-its on the wall, had shriveled into little more than a handful ash. _And, should the culprit have taken any of those papers before starting the fire, we'd have no way of knowing._

The suspect list wasn't a long one, as it stood. If Kazuma had any ties to Isao, and seeing as how the man was found dead in his office it was likely he did, then he would be the prime suspect. The security guard, who'd been in the building alone much to Conan's surprise. And Mrs. Aisaka, who could have had a motive if her husband had debts to the man. But that wasn't a complete list. Not yet.

The last of the suspects had arrived shortly after, however. "Inspector Megure!" an officer called from the doorway, leading in a man by the arm who seemed far from pleased at the little pull on his arm. "We found this man sneaking around outside." The man in question roughly took his arm back from the officer, smoothing down his coat and straightening a tie that had been knocked askew. He was at least a head taller than the officer bringing him in, and very slim. He looked familiar, but Conan couldn't quite place from where.

"According to his ID," the officer continued. "His name is Aisaka Taichi, 48 years of age. He hasn't said a word to us though. Just that he wants a lawyer." _That's it! Aisaka Kazuma. They could be twins if Kazuma were a few years younger._

The inspector gave a short nod, a deep grunt coming from the back of his throat. The officer, dismissed, slipped back into the crowd of blue. A critical eye passed over the man, then the inspector went back to his work.

Conan approached the man, apparently unnoticed as he visibly flinched when Conan began speaking. "Hey mister! You look just like Kazuma-san! Are you his brother or something?"

The man eyed the child before him for a moment, then his eyes softened somewhat. "Yes, I am. How do you know him, uh, little boy?"

"My name's Conan," he smiled. "And Aisaka-san, I mean, Kazuma-san's wife, asked us to find him."

"Hikari-chan?" he asked. "She's the one that told me he'd gone missing." Some dark emotion passed behind his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a combination of curiosity and confusion. "Why did she ask you to look for him? Is your father a friend of his?"

Conan shook his head, then pointed toward the back of the room where Kogoro was... well, was doing whatever it was Kogoro did on a case. "I'm with Kogoro-ojisan. He's a famous detective, maybe you've heard of him?"

Taichi paled considerably, looking between the boy and the man mucking it up with a couple of policemen and the security guard, before settling his attention back on Conan. "So, you're staying with, Mouri Kogoro?" he managed after a few seconds. "That's... quite an honor."

"Yep! We haven't had much luck finding Kazuma-san though," Conan added sadly. "Hey! Maybe we can help each other out once we find out who started the fire!"

"Y-yeah, maybe," Taichi said quietly, something akin to regret coloring his voice as he took in the charred room once more, gaze wondering aimlessly. His eyes finally stopped on a few members of the forensics team, gathered around the trash can. They were carefully extracting several of the more intact pieces of paper, sealing them away in special containers. They were probably getting ready to send them off to headquarters, but any kind of recovery process would take days, if it was even possible to begin with.

It was then that a familiar figure appeared, bringing with him a thick stack of papers held between his side and forearm. He was walking with a purpose, straight for the inspector, and Conan didn't want to miss this. "Well, see you later, Aisaka-san!" Conan said cheerily as he ran away from the man.

A couple of words had already passed between the two by the time he was close enough to hear them over the ambient noise of the room. "So he hasn't received any large payments in the last few month then?" Megure was asking, even as he flipped through the pages of the thick report.

"No sir," Takagi said, for of course, he had been the one sent to gather the financial report. "We haven't been able to find anything suspicious, anyway. We also checked to see if he was making any regular withdrawals that could have been any kind of payments, but nothing raised any red flags that couldn't be explained."

"Explained?" The inspector asked. "By who?"

"Ah, well, Kazuma-san's wife is being counted as a suspect as well. She's in the office facing this one, said something about not wanting to see any bodies. I just asked her when-" Takagi stopped, the dark look the inspector was displaying stopping his words in his throat.

"And why wasn't I told about this?" the inspector demanded.

Hands raised defensively and a stutter in his speech, Takagi replied as best he could. "W-well, I-I assumed you already knew, sir."

As Takagi and the inspector continued on, Conan decided to put a little faith in the detective's ability to number crunch. If there was nothing there, he had one more place to look. The footsteps he'd heard earlier surely had to be connected somehow, and there could be something left out in the hallway. He knew the police had already searched there, but still, maybe it was worth a second look.

Ran, of course, would be less than happy with him running off on his own again, so he waited, watching from the side of the door to see when everyone's attention was aimed in some other direction, then slipped away into the hallway outside. He headed off in the direction he remembered the sound coming from, only to find the hall lights had only been turned on within a small radius of the crime scene. He would have thought that all of the hall lights would have been on, but apparently this area hadn't been considered important, or was too far away from the scene, or some other third reason that really didn't matter in the scheme of things, and thus it remained dark. With a twist, the light on his watch flickered on, illuminating the floor before him.

He stopped after another minute or two, shining his light over the floor. _It was just about... Here. Well, I guess big Hollywood-style muddy footprints would be too much to ask for,_ he thought, casting the light from side to side. Then a tiny red dot near the ceiling caught his eye. He had a good idea what it was already, but shone his light at the the spot to confirm it. _A camera._

He took off at a sprint, eyes shining as he felt victory within his reach. _Gotcha._ He only managed a few steps before he rounded a corner, running right into some dark object that hadn't been there a minute before. He heard a surprised shout, and before he knew what was happening he was horizontal and his nose was throbbing.

For a minute he just stayed still, then slowly rose to a sitting position. "Ta-Takagi-keiji?" Takagi sat up, if a little more slowly than his counterpart, one hand holding his head. Conan blinked again, a star or two dancing into view. "Were you, following me?"

Shock flickered across his face, as good a confession as any. He was about to deny it, but his shoulders fell a fraction of a degree, and it was clear he'd changed his mind. "I saw you slip out of the room, and I came to bring you back." He let out a nervous little laugh, and it was obvious that he knew that was far from believable. "You could get lost wondering around here, you know."

But, he could use this. Maybe. Climbing up to his feet, Conan looked to the man and said "Then maybe you can show me around! I was actually wondering where the security guards worked. I heard that they have cameras all over this place, so maybe they can tell Kogoro-ojisan whether or not Kazuma-san really came here last night!"

Takagi, with a look like a dear caught in the headlights, not sure whether he should believe that the boy bought his lie or he was just going along with it for his own purposes, could only stumble over his words. "Uh, actually, why don't we just head back to-"

"I think it's this way Takagi-keiji!" Conan yelled, moments before Takagi's arm was pulled taut and he was forced to stumble after the speeding child.

"Ah! Conan-kun!"

The two stumbled around until Conan came across the door he was looking for. "Here it is!" Conan yelled, Takagi's sleeve still grasped tightly in his small, yet surprisingly strong fist. The door stood open, and nobody was inside, so it was a simple matter to slip in and start looking for what he wanted. Even if somebody had been inside, he'd brought Takagi along as insurance.

"Conan-kun, I really think we-"

Completely and utterly ignoring Takagi's words, Conan jumped into the swiveling office chair in front of the bank of monitors. "Hey! I wonder if this is last nights tape?" And with those words, Conan began prodding every button in front of him in a seemingly random order. Or, prodded dangerously close to them, so that he didn't cause anything to blow up but wouldn't appear to be heading straight for the one he was looking for.

"C-Conan-kun!" Takagi yelled out as he jumped forward, ready to snatch him away from the controls, when the video started to rewind.

"Oh, this one is from today. Oh well, I wanted to see something anyway!" Hands stopped, still outstretched, Takagi found himself interested in what he might or might not be looking for. He himself had watched the security feed earlier that night, and had confirmed that a dark shape had entered the office. But it was too dark, and the shape too indistinct, to identify a culprit. But, if Conan knew that and wanted to see something for himself, maybe it would be a good idea to let him have a look? He always seemed to pull evidence out of places that the police had already combed or make deductions out of thin air.

Just as he remembered, Takagi watched as a dark figure approached the door. Conan tilted his head to the side, but kept watching silently. The figure reached out a hand, turned the knob, stepped inside- and the image froze, at exactly 6:27 and 32 seconds. "Well that's weird," Conan muttered, finger drawing away from the pause button.

"You saw something, Conan-kun?" Takagi asked. Whatever it was, he sure hadn't noticed it.

"The door wasn't locked," he pointed out. "You'd think that, if he had hidden somebody in there, he would have at least locked it."

"But he was tied up, Isao-san couldn't have possibly-"

Conan shook his head, pointing to the video again. "But what if somebody _else_ had come along and found him? If all they had to do was open the door..."

Understanding blooming, the detective leaned in closer to get a better look. The image before him jumped back a few seconds, then clear as day, the black mass that was a hand reached forth, grabbed the knob, and turned it once more. "See? Even I could have done that. What would they have done if Isao-san had been found before he'd come back to set the fire?" There was another question there as well, that Conan hoped he received.

"But why even leave in the first place?" Takagi wondered aloud. Conan barely suppressed his grin._ My thoughts exactly._

"Say, Takagi-keiji?" Conan inquired. "How much of this tape did you watch?"

"Until smoke started coming out from under the door. Here," Takagi reached forward, letting the tape resume. The figure was looking down as they took a few steps inside the room, their attention on their hand as they wiped it against their pants, the door swinging shut behind them. It was only a minute later that the door was swung wide open and the figure took off at a sprint, taking off in the opposite direction from the camera. There was a short stretch where nothing happened, then at exactly 6:29 and 27 seconds, smoke started streaming out from under the door.

"So then you never saw when Isao-san went into the office?" Conan inquired.

"I did, actually. It was only about five minutes back. Here." He rewound the tape, stopping it at a little over 6:20 as two dark figures appeared at the bottom of the screen. One was on the shorter side, fairly slim, and could only have been Isao. He was following the same figure that Conan'd seen a minute ago run away from the room just before it burst into flames. Only, now, he seemed to be wearing a waist length coat, one that was a size or two too large for him.

The figures entered the room and the door shut behind them. "They stayed in there for a minute," Takagi commented as he began to fast forward the tape. "Then Kazuma-san leaves, but we don't see anything from Isao-san." Indeed, as the tape resumed, the figure reemerged from the office and walked calmly away after making sure that the door had latched, though not bothering to lock it.

"So you think Kazuma-san is the culprit?" Conan asked.

"You don't?" the detective asked. "The culprit looks to be about his height, and nobody knows where he's been for the last 24 hours."

Conan smiled, if only slightly. "Kazuma-san is the least suspicious to me. If he wasn't in debt to Isao-san, then he doesn't have a motive. There's no way he would kill Isao-san in his own office and leave him there, even if he did set it on fire. It would be way too suspicious to disappear if he was planning murder, that'd put him right at the top of our list of suspects. Plus, don't you find it suspicious at all that he was so calm when he left the room the first time, then ran away the second time?"

"But wouldn't he have been worried about getting caught if the smoke attracted any attention? Of course he would have run." Takagi was getting more confused by the minute, but as usual the bits he _was_ getting were making perfect sense. There was a little click in the back of his mind, telling him that letting Conan watch the videos had absolutely been the right thing to do.

"Yes," Conan smirked. "_If_ he was worried about being caught. But..."


	6. The Vanishing Man: Conclusion

**A/N: So, here's the closing chapter to "The Vanishing Man" ark. This has actually stretched out much longer than I thought it would. Originally, I'd envisioned this as two, maaaybe three chapters. But, here we are, on chapter six. Well, to be fair, I did sort of write two 'intro' chapters, so I guess it's more like four, which isn't too far off the mark. **

**This chapter has also proved to be quite the mystery to me. It's been the hardest one to write yet. I think I've probably written ten subtly different versions to this chapter. (Ok, some of them not so subtly different. In one Ran corners Takagi in a hall and, after practically interrogating him, gets him to start researching where Shinichi's gone off to and what case he's on. I scratched that one as, obviously, that might screw up some plot developments. :P) Anyway, this isn't how I envisioned this chapter going, buuut, it's the best of the bunch.**

**As usual, tell me if there's any OOC parts, or any parts that you plain didn't like, or... Well, you probably get the picture by now, eh?**

**Miruial: I KNOW! I honestly thought (may be a spoiler if you're still going through the series. Be warned!) that the episode Shuichi died in, when Jodie took Conan's cellphone in to be tested for prints, that Takagi would check Conan's prints against a database and find that, 'hey what a surprise!', Conan's and Shinichi's fingerprints matched. Then even when he didn't say anything, I thought he'd show up and episode or two (or dozen) later and be like "Oh, and Conan, are you Shinichi by any chance?" Just maybe not in those exact words... **

**Chelseaj500: Haha well, as long as people keep reading, I'll keep writing. ^_^**

* * *

As Conan spoke into Takagi's ear, he just kept nodding, periodically giving a grunt just as quiet as the whispered words and nearly as concise. Once the boy had drawn back, Takagi stayed silent for a second, thinking it over. It was _possible_, probable even, but it all hinged on one assumption. An assumption that could easily be proven or disproven. Easily, providing one were a detective with the police department, of course. "So you want me to find-"

Conan nodded, cutting the detective off. "I can't exactly tag along, so I'll wait in Kazuma-san's office." Takagi nodded once, rising to his full height.

"Do you need me to walk you back?" the detective asked, pausing as he pushed the door open.

Conan had to resist the snort that nearly sprang forth as he dropped out of the swiveling chair, replacing it with a small smile that grew slowly more sincere as he spoke. "I'll be fine, don't worry."

Takagi gave a short laugh, more a sharp exhalation and a grin than anything else. He looked like he was about to say something, then looked away, starting down the hall. Conan stared after him, confused by his reaction. _It's not important, _he told himself. Then he turned on his heel, running off in the opposite direction. Hopefully to meet again before too long.

* * *

When Conan had arrived back at the crime scene, his heart fell into his stomach. Something was wrong. Ran and Kogoro were missing. The forensics teams were packing up. Aisaka Taichi was in handcuffs, and inspector Megure was ready to lead him away. Finding his mouth full of cotton, Conan could only watch as the man looked around once more, that same sorrow coloring his eyes that Conan had seen before. _No! Not yet! It's too soon!_ he was shouting in his head. He set his jaw, taking in the scene. Panicking wouldn't help him. He saw Tome, over in the corner, apparently supervising something. He would have to do.

Running up to the officer, Conan tugged at his sleeve. "Tome-san?"

Looking down, the officer seemed a little preoccupied, but nevertheless responded with a gentle smile. "Ah, I was wondering where you'd run off to. Usually you're jumping all over the place."

Conan gave a small smile in answer and his hand found itself at the back of his head. "Yeah... But," and here, he turned, looking pointedly at the inspector and the man in handcuffs to his side. "What's going on with Taichi-san?"

"Weren't you here? He confessed. He even had a little lighter fluid on his hands and clothes from earlier. He's going to be taken back for more questioning once we find a little more evidence."

Conan's eyes darkened minutely at the confirmation of his suspicions. _Kuso. I knew it. But I thought we'd have more time. There's no way that he'll make it back here in time. I have to find a way to stall them._

"Say, Tome-san, did they figure out his motive yet?" he asked. He had to start somewhere.

"It turns out that he had a gambling problem, and one day he wound up in a lot of debt to Isao-san. He said that Isao-san was threatening him, and when that hadn't worked, he'd started threatening his wife. So he led him here, saying that he had just won a bet and had enough money to pay off his debts. Then he subdued him, tied him to the chair, and set the room on fire."

_Good, at least I have a lot to work with. This guy couldn't have been more vague if he'd tried._ "Subdued him?" Conan asked, voice rising a decibel higher than it already was. "How? Isao-san didn't appear to have any injuries, right?"

"There was a single blow to the back of his head made by a blunt object. Taichi-san said he threw it into the woods when he was trying to escape. We haven't found it yet, but we've got most of our people out looking."

Conan grimaced minutely. Time for the trump card. "When he said he 'lit the fire'... did he elaborate on how he did it?"

Tome blinked, seemingly confused. "We already figured that part out before he confessed. There was a cigarette found in the trash bin."

"Then how did he get lighter fluid on himself?"

Again, Tome took a moment to respond, this break longer than the first. "Well, he could have soaked the papers in lighter fluid, to make sure that the fire would catch."

Conan shook his head, a little faster than strictly necessary. "He wouldn't have gotten it on his clothes if he was just putting a little in a trash bin." Conan held his hands out in front of himself, as if holding a bottle of lighter fluid. "The only way that would happen is if he was holding it up really high and some of it splashed out. But if that was the case, we would have found some traces of it on the ground, too, wouldn't we?" He mimicked the actions as he spoke them, hands falling back to his side as he finished.

"Uh, well-"

"And wasn't there lighter fluid on his hands as well? I wonder how it got there?"

The forensics expert was left dumbstruck. Not necessarily that these comments were that enlightening, but because they had just come out of the mouth of a little boy. A boy who was still looking up at him expectantly. "There could have been some on the outside of the container," the officer started.

"But then wouldn't it have been really dangerous for him to light the cigarette if he had lighter fluid on his hands?"

Before anything else could be said, a group of three officers with 'CSI' embroidered on their uniform ran into the room, straight for officer Tome. "Sir!" The officer in the middle said with a quick salute, the two flanking him had their hands occupied with large plastic bags. "We found these a little less than 100 meters from where Taichi-san was found trying to escape through the woods."

Inside the bags was a pen holder, a little larger than a coffee mug, that appeared to be made entirely out of metal. The blood caked to the bottom was easy enough to see. The other bag contained a jacket, the front seemed to have a light spattering as well. However, this had nothing to do with the small smirk on Conan's face. It was just as he'd thought. One more nail in the culprit's coffin.

But now, the problem was time. If Takagi didn't return, and soon, things were going to go down hill. Fast.

It was then, when Conan noticed how the room was just a little too silent and deja-vu clawed at his sense, that he took a quick look around the room and found most of the officers staring at him with varying expressions of surprise. His heart seemed to stop in a moment of panic, searching to make sure that Ran and Kogoro were indeed still absent. His heart began to pump once more on this confirmation, but his luck only ran so deep. The phrase 'Be careful what you wish for' passed through his mind in a tauntingly sarcastic voice.

"Takagi-keiji!" Conan called. "Did you get those documents?" With that comment, every eye that had been trained on him focused in on the detective standing in the doorway, thick folder held under one arm.

Swallowing as his throat seemed to constrict to the size of a pinhole, the detective held the papers up in front of his chest. "Uh, yeah. Tachibana Mogi-san, the security guard, has been depositing a minimum of ¥600,000 a month, when he only earns a little under ¥300,000. We found some deposits of an unexplained origin going into his bank at the beginning of every month that are identical to deposits being made into Isao-san's account on the same days."

The inspector seemed to be catching on, giving the guard a firm, cold stare. "So what you're saying, Takagi-kun, is that Isao-san and Mogi-san were-"

"Business partners." Conan, captivating everyone's attention once more, took a few steps to the center of the room. If he was going to give away the killer, he was only going to do it once, and he wasn't going to repeat himself. Making sure everyone was paying attention, he continued. "Due to some problems with the budget on Nanyo's side, the last few years Mogi-san has been here alone at night. The empty school building has made a wonderful headquarters for their illegal gambling ring, and more recently their loan business. Isn't that right, Mogi-san?"

The man in question, the eyes of every officer in the room on him, had started sweating bullets in the last few minutes. "I-" His words caught in his mouth as he took his sweet time to gape at the child in front of him, laying bare all of the secrets that he'd worked so carefully to hide. "I've done no such thing!" he yelled. He was aiming for outraged, but fear was the predominant emotion in his tone. "Besides you dim wit, Taichi-san already confessed!"

_That was it, _Conan thought. _That was all I needed. _"Really? Because you seem awfully angry with me for pointing that out." His gaze fell to the floor then, bangs obscuring the way his eyes narrowed as he continued. "You'll probably be really angry by the time I finish then, Mogi-san. And by the way, what happened to your accent?"

Eyes like saucers, a frantic Mogi tried to repair the damage. "Wh-whatcha talkin' 'bout kid? I jus' learned ta talk two ways. Not a crime, is it officer?" he asked, inclining his head at the end in the direction of inspector Megure. As everyone's attention switched back to the inspector, like some kind of abstract game of attention tennis, it was actually Taichi-san that spoke first.

"So, Kazuma-san... Is innocent?"

"Yes, Taichi-san." Now the system was broken. People didn't know whether to watch the boy giving genius deductions in the middle of the room or keep an eye on the person in handcuffs, who was looking less and less like a murderer by the minute. "You see, Taichi-san only confessed to cover his brother. I suspect he also moved the bloody pen holder and coat out into the woods."

"Wait, so Taichi-san was here?" Megure asked.

"He was here all right," Conan said, still eyeing the floorboards as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. "He walked in the room only moments after the fire had been started. He came here, looking for his brother who vanished yesterday or anything that might tell him where he'd gone. But when he opened the door, not only was he surprised to find it unlocked, but he realized once the door had shut behind him that there was a fire in the trash can. It only took another moment for him to find Isao-san dead in the chair. Or at least, that's how I'm sure he looked at the time. Taichi-san made a split-second decision that his brother had made a mistake and was trying to cover it up, and when he saw the two bloodied objects laying on the desk, he picked them up and ran off with them. He hid out in the woods, waiting for the police to find him and the murder weapon so that he could take responsibility for the crime."

Mogi was almost growling, features twisted into a snarl as he spat "You don't have any proof."

"But we do," Conan said, coolly as ever. "You'd planned on letting the jacket and the pen holder sit through the fire, so you never bothered wearing gloves. Besides, gloves would have been too suspicious, and Isao-san might have noticed that something was wrong before you'd had enough time to kill him. So you left the pen holder wrapped up in the flammable jacket on the desk, right next to where you knew the fire would be the most concentrated. But think. Taichi-san could have wiped off the prints on the pen holder, but I doubt he thought to remove the prints on the jacket itself. And if it was never exposed to the fire to begin with, then they couldn't have burned away, and they should still be there now."

"That's insane!" Mogi shouted. Clearly grasping at straws, his gaze jumped wildly from one officer to the next. "Who is this kid? Why are you all listening to him?"

Conan raised his eyes, the light glinting off his lenses, but it was the intense blue eyes behind the thin glass that rooted the grown man to the spot. "Edogawa Conan. Tantei-san."

"Takagi-kun!" On Megure's signal, the detective approached the murderer. To Mogi, the whole thing was surreal, and the world seemed to slip away. That is, until the moment he felt the detective's hand on his shoulder as he tried to get him to turn around to get the cuffs on. Then he went into a full blown panic.

"Get off of me!" he yelled like a paranoid mental patient, and with a shove the detective went sprawling backwards. Before Takagi had even hit the ground, Mogi was making a dash for the door.

Megure was the first to react, but too far away to do anything. "Stop him!" Mostly all that was left were CSI, and they didn't budge from where they were. One brave officer did try to tackle the fleeing culprit, but Mogi sidestepped him with ease, dodging his outstretched hand as he tried to grab him.

Conan had crouched down the moment the suspect had moved a muscle, reaching for the dial on the side of his shoe while his other hand was turning the dial on his belt. One let out a crackle like static electricity, and the other a quiet hiss as the ball inflated. "Hyyyaahh!" Conan drove the ball forward with all the power he could muster, shooting it off like a checkered rocket. His aim was true, smacking the man right in the back of the head with a satisfying thud, another, deeper thud sounding as he hit the ground.

Takagi was staring, wide eyed, at the suspect that the child had just taken down with a single kick. His handcuffs were still in his hand, and he'd yet to rise any higher than simply sitting up. A sharp hiss filled the air a moment later that made him flinch as the soccer ball deflated, flattening out next to Mogi's face, the force of the escaping gas blowing back his hair.

"Co-" a familiar voice had started from out in the hall, raised to a shout, but cut off quickly. Presumably when they noticed the unconscious man in the doorway.

"Ran-neechan?" Conan called back with a nervous rise in pitch. He _knew _he'd been forgetting something. Fortunately, her anger had been replaced with confusion for the moment, staring at the unconscious security guard with a deflated soccer ball next to his nose. He had to admit, though, it probably wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever seen at an investigation. Her head peeked around to look into the room, then tip-toed around the man as if she didn't want to wake him, her appearance seeming to have moved the surrounding officers into action for they finally secured a pair of cuffs around his wrists.

She stared at the man as he was hauled to his feet and walked out of view, then shook away the confusion. She wasn't unduly worried about him to begin with, and she was _far_ more interested in the boy in front of her at the moment. "Conan-kun, where have you been? Dad's been ready to go ever since they arrested Taichi-san!"

Conan's eyes widened just a bit. "Taichi-san... Aisaka-san... I forgot!" He could feel it in his chest. _That _was the feeling he'd been having. Not that he hadn't noticed Ran was missing, but that he still had an unanswered question.

He took off at a sprint. The officers couldn't have gone far, just around the corner. "Conan-kun!"

He ignored Ran's calls, and even the footsteps that told him she was following him. He rounded a corner, but they were nowhere in sight. He kept running, taking in deep breaths. "I need to speak with Mogi-san!" he yelled. He rounded another corner, but still nothing. _There's no way they could be that far ahead. Not unless they were running. And there's no reason for them to have gone a different direction, this is the quickest way to the parking lot.  
_

Ran's hand fell on his shoulder, jerking him back and nearly toppling them both to the ground. "Why are you running?" she asked between panting breaths, exasperation coloring her voice.

He broke free of her grip with a twist, taking off again. "I'll explain later!" _I'm running because if Kazuma-san showed up unexpectedly last night, he could have accidentally stumbled onto the two of them talking about something. And if they killed him... Isao-san's wanting to leave the business would make perfect sense. If he wanted to get out, Mogi-san could have killed him to keep him silent._

Conan burst out of the door, looking all around. There didn't seem to be any movement of any kind, save for the trees swaying in the icy breeze. He took a moment to catch his breath, great plumes of steam streaming out of his mouth like smoke from a dragon's snout._ Where could they have gone?_

Ran caught up to him a moment later, and this time she was not letting go. "Conan-kun!"

"Where did they go?" he asked out loud. Not that he expected her to know. Mostly he was asking himself. They couldn't have just vanish into thin air, but then, where were they?

"Come on, lets go home. It's late." Resigned to the situation, Conan took the hand she offered as she started to lead him back to the car, the cutting wind making him shiver. He purged the case from his mind, or at least as best he could, then turned to her with the closest thing to a smile he could manage. "What's for dinner?"

"Ahhh, you and dad, I swear!"_  
_


	7. Black and White

**A/N: Hello again! Well, I've put a lot of effort into this chapter, namely because I had no idea how to proceed from where I left off. When I was planning the story, I simply wrote down the ending details of that case, and then the starting details of this one. I thought making them transition together smoothly would be simple enough. Well, I was wrong. ^_^**

**Anyhooow... This chapter is sort of a 'meh' chapter to me, but I'm always overly critical of my own writing. But some times, it is absolutely warranted. For example, last chapter, I see several places where I'd cut and pasted different segments together and it just screwed everything up. That whole awkwardly hanging/seemingly pointless bit about Mogi's accent was actually supposed to have a purpose, but I cut it in favor of something else. Buuut, that one part somehow avoided my editing scissors. (Just think of this rant as the commentary they add to DVD's for some reason.)**

**All I can say is the same thing as I've said on every other chapter. If you see an awkward part, or see something that you think should have been done different, or if you have ideas or... Anything, anything at all. Just hit that little review button, and let me know. **

**And see if you can figure out what the top portion has to do with what we've already seen. Bonus point if you figure out what their code names came from without looking it up.**

** - - - - ****Reviewers! - - - -  
**

**Miruial: Hmm, true. Not even something that crossed my mind. (Conan getting Takagi to give the deduction that is.) But it's not actually all that unusual for Conan to give deductions when it's just him and the cops. It's just rare that he's ever left alone with them. In fact, the only example that immediately comes to mind is the "Genta's Dad" case. I think that's around the 550 mark? Idk, it's on the wiki. :P And I'd love to hear your theory, actually. I have a theory of my own that might just make it into this story, but I was more thinking of starting another story once this one was over to try and work that in there. Not set in stone, though, so who knows.**

**x.S T R E A K Z.x: Haha friend it is! After that review, I couldn't call you anything less! And if ever I fail to do any of those things, character wise, plot wise, or any of it, let me know and I'll start scrubbing at it until it shines. I'm a tad on the perfectionist side some times, but I honestly can't stand the thought of giving this series anything less than my best. I'll jump on anything that is pointed out to me. (Often why my updates take as long as they do. It takes me two days to write them, two days to rewrite them, and two days editing, then alternating rewriting and editing. XD) And actually, I do just come up with them off the top of my head. Actually, that one I came up with (and was still figuring out myself) as I wrote it. Funnily enough, I watched OVA 8 and from the very beginning I was like "Crap... I just wrote an ark like Sonoko... I feel so stupid." And if you see any more of that tense-hopping (and it is a problem I have pretty often) just point it out, and I'll get at it. (Like I said, until it shines. :P)**

**Chelseaj500: Well, the murder has been resolved, but Kazuma-san is still missing. We aren't through with him quite yet. But that's all I can say for now. ;D**

**Serial-Doodler: Kogoro wasn't there. He was out in the car. Had been since Taichi confessed. ^_^ Though, that part about being careful is a good point. But, it wouldn't be the first time that he'd given a deduction in font of the police when no one else was around. As I mentioned in one of my review responses above, the only example that immediately comes to mind is the "Genta's Dad" case, somewhere around the 550 mark, I think. (Now, if you meant _Takagi _and not Kogoro_,_ I think he could have already figured it out if only he had the right clues to lead him in the right direction****, even before that deduction show****.)**

* * *

She was whistling. That always got on his nerves when she did that. He gave a quick, fiery glare to the back of the black clad woman's head, but continued to follow her nonetheless. It wasn't like she was his _superior_ or something. They were equals. If anything, people in his line of work were more important than assassins like her. But he wasn't comfortable away from his office. Away from his chair. His computer.

He was a tech person, through and through. Going in somewhere, guns blazing... That just wasn't his style. He'd rather rig an explosive, or build a weaponized robot, or... Anything other than this. Unfortunately, there weren't very many occasions where a remote controlled robot with a machine gun mounted on to its head would go unnoticed.

_So, here I am, with _Corvus_ of all people. God, why does it have to be her? She's so obnoxious, and cocky, and just absolutely smoking _hot_. How's a guy supposed to concentrate when she's wearing that black... Thing? We're doing a job for the Theft division, not cruising down a runway._

The only thought helping to keep him from panicking was knowing that she was taking the 'breaking' part, and leaving the 'entering' to him. Which really should be fairly easy. Just get into Whiskey's computer, check his history, wipe all traces of his existence off of any servers he'd visited, and then launch a scrub utility. Simple. _She_ was the one who had to get him in and out safely, though. That would be more difficult if the rumor about the security measures some of those executive members went to had even the slightest glimmer of truth to it.

The whistling finally stopped, putting an end to the shrill torture. She indicated a first-floor window, or more specifically, the spot under the window, as she spoke without ever laying an eye on him. "Wait here," she said, sounding just as bored as could be. "I'll come and get you when I'm done." She took a gun out of her belt, cocked it, and he felt sure that she was about to slip inside and start shooting up the place. But the next thing he knew, the black metal death bringer was flying towards him, and he very narrowly managed to catch the thing before it crashed into his nose. "Use that if someone finds you."

She disappeared into the building through the window, leaving him hyperventilating below. _In case someone finds me? What does she mean? Is there a chance that someone could find me here? And I'm just supposed to shoot them? Just like that? That's crazy! I'm not a field agent! Who do these people think I am? I've never even held a gun in my life! I barely even know how the thing works! Oh god, why did they have to pick me? What did I ever do to deserve this?_

His fearful fantasies continued to play out while inside, Corvus was quickly and quietly scouting out the area for guards, cameras, security systems, and the like. "It looks like Whiskey's getting rusty," she said aloud to the empty room. "Not even a motion trigger or a bomb rig." She let out a sigh as she traipsed around the room, but not a single defensive measure could be found. It was sort of a let down, really. Here she was, getting all excited for nothing. She gave a solid knock on the window, opening it with one fluid movement.

She regarded the man, sitting against the wall, hunched over, fearful of some unseen and nonexistent foe. What in the world could be going through that little weasel's head? "Alright Pyxis, get in here and do your thing. The quicker you get done, the quicker I can get home, and the quicker I can kick Whiskey's ass for making me work twelve hours in one day."

Pyxis gave her a nervous little smile, or at least that's how he thought of it. In reality, it kind of looked like he'd just been caught stealing. Shocked, scared, and more than a little nervous. _She's joking, right?_ Corvus wasn't anywhere near Whiskey's rank, she couldn't possibly think that she could do _anything_ to him. But at the same time, that's exactly the kind of attitude that'd gotten her through the lower ranks so quickly. There were people that had been Status-2 for decades, and she breezed through it in a couple weeks. Here she was, Status-3, and already making quite the impression on her seniors. It wouldn't surprise him at all if she made Status-4 in the next week or two. And then, well, if she held true to her threats... Suffice it to say Whiskey would wind up in an ass cast. Her attitude wasn't the only reason she was known as one of the best assassins in the organization.

* * *

"Ahh," Kogoro sighed, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach. His sentiments were shared by Conan, though he expressed them in a different manner.

"That was really good!" He didn't even have to fake the smile that stretched his features, and it felt good to genuinely smile every now and then. The childish inflections in his voice were stronger than he'd meant them to be, but oh well. No harm done. He hopped out of his chair, carrying his plate to the sink, where Ran was already washing the dishes.

Ran gave him a smile over her shoulder. "Thank you Conan-kun, I really appreciate it." Then noting the plate in his hands, she grabbed it with a quick "I'll got that for you," and set it down with the rest of the dirty dishes.

"Thank you, Ran-neechan," he said more subdued. His tone caught Ran's interest, but he passed it off as exhaustion with a fake yawn and the rub of an eye, then started to trudge off toward his room.

"Going to bed already?" she asked, adding a pan to the stack of clean dishes building up at her side.

"No, I've got some more homework to do," he mumbled as he picked his backpack up off the floor on his way.

"Remember, no lights after nine," she called after him.

"I know, don't worry," he said, still in no hurry whatsoever to get to where he was going. Once out of her line of sight, he ditched the tired act and ran the rest of the way into his room, grabbing Shinichi's phone and hitting '2' on the way. The number for the Agency's speed dial.

It rang a few times, and Conan took this time to gather both his bow tie and his thoughts, closing the bedroom door as he waited for her to answer. Just when he thought that the answering machine was going to pick up, the ringing stopped and Ran's voice poured from his speaker. "Mouri Dete-"

"Hey Ran," he spoke. Spoke using his own voice, his own mannerisms, truly as _himself_ for the first time in a long time. Too long. "How have you been?"

"Shinichi," she breathed into the phone. That usually proved to be the calm before the storm. The quiet before she'd start shouting at him, demanding explanations. But if it was, then the storm was still building because she continued on in the same whisper. "I've been... Fine," she said, but the quiver in her voice contradicted her.

"Really?" he asked, in his special teasing-but-I-really-am-concerned voice. "Because it sounds like you're about to cry."

"I am not!" she yelled loud enough he could hear her from all the way in the living room, no phone needed. "I just had to sneeze, and... Then it never came!"

"Right," he said, a small smirk on the edge of his lips as he dragged out the vowel. "Well then, what's new?"

"Huh?" He changed subjects quick enough to give her whiplash.

"Well, it's been three weeks since I last called. I'm sure something happened, right?" If she didn't want to talk about whatever was on her mind, he was in no position to pry. The first rule of living under a false identity was to never ask questions of others that you wouldn't want them to ask of you.

"Um, well..." Ran quickly raced through the last few weeks events, finally deciding on what Shinichi would probably find most interesting. Then, with a tone to rival Conan's cheerfulness mixed with her own notes of taunting, "Well, I've finally come across a case that broke my dad's winning streak." Conan cringed. _She wants to talk about _that_?_ "There was this guy that went missing, and my dad was hired to look for him..."

Ran went over the whole case, all the while he felt like it was some kind of unintentional torture session. From the meeting with Aisaka Hikari, to the murder of Isao Watari, to the arrest of Tachibana Mogi, she recalled everything in surprisingly good detail. He had to wonder if she'd been practicing some investigatory skills of her own.

"And, well, that's when you called," she said with a little laugh. Whatever had been weighing on her mind when she first answered was clearly gone. "So, what have you been up to?" she asked.

"Ah, well, you know," he said, desperately trying to keep the regret he felt from coloring his voice.

"I'm not talking about your case, dummy," she said playfully. "You never seem to want to tell me anything about it, so I've decided that it'd be best if I just... Stopped asking. I want to know what you've done other than that. Like maybe where you are, or what it's like. Even just what you had for lunch." Her voice caught at the end, and it stung worse than his lip as he felt like he was about to bite it in two between his teeth. "You can at least tell me that... Right, Shinichi?"

"Ran." He was speechless. He'd have felt better if she'd have reached through the phone and slapped him, or even given him one of those championship kicks, but this sad... Resignation. It was heartbreaking. "If you're asking if I'm happy here," he started slowly. He heard nothing from the other side, so he continued. "Then the answer is no. If I could come home right now, right this instant, believe me I would. But I have to finish this, Ran. I have to. If I don't finish this case, then what will all of this time have been for? We've both made sacrifices here. I can't just throw all of that away, Ran."

There was more silence on the other end, and just when he was wondering if she'd hung up on him, there was a sniff. "I know. Just solve it quickly, ok? I miss you."

"I miss you too Ran," he managed to say without his voice shaking. But it wouldn't stay that way for much longer. "I've, got to get going."

"Call me sooner this time, ok?" she asked. "Three weeks is too long."

"I will," he said with as much sincerity as he could force into those few words. "Good night."

"Good night," she whispered. And then she was gone.

Conan sat for a few seconds, still holding the phone to his ear, trying to combat all of the conflicting emotions building up inside of his chest. He just bottled them up, letting them ferment into anger so that, one day, when he was finally faced with the chance to take those men in black down, he'd have an elixir of emergency strength stored inside. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

The night passed slowly, without much sleep on either of their parts. Kogoro, however, slept like a baby, snoring away all night and leaving Conan to try and get some shuteye with the worlds most annoying soundtrack playing in the background. By the time the sun was rising, he'd estimated that he'd been to sleep roughly ten times for about twenty minutes each. And even if it wasn't broken up, three hours and twenty minutes wasn't exactly the recommended amount of nightly sleep, be it for an 8 year old or an 18 year old. Though with how foggy and drained his brain felt right now, maybe those estimations weren't to be relied on too heavily.

He went through his daily morning ritual, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, et cetera, only half awake, and without paying much attention to what he was doing. So when he got to the door to put his jacket on after slipping a cup of coffee when Ran hadn't been paying attention, it should have been seen as some sort of miracle that he was wearing matching clothes that weren't inside out and backwards. Of course, he _had_ forgotten his watch, his belt, and the batteries in his shoes needed charging after yesterdays incident so he'd sneaked them into his room to plug them in and had yet to retrieve them, so it wasn't without incident.

Gadgets in place minutes later, he once more stood by the door, jacket at the ready, checking to make sure that his homework was in his bag and that he'd not forgotten to do it again. Everything checked out, so he slipped his coat on, followed closely by his backpack itself, which weighed heavily on his shoulders. At least it was a literal weight. Any more metaphorical weight and he might have just crumbled.

"Bye, I'm going!" he called groggily, sliding a hand over the doorknob and giving it a twist.

"Bye!" Ran called from the next room, still preparing her and her father's lunch. She did it every day, since she had the time in the mornings. But the yawn that followed told him that she felt about the same as he did. He let the door fall shut behind him, yawning as he descended the first few stairs and wondering what it was that made yawning so contagious.

About four steps down was when he started getting that feeling. That inexplicable tingle that would run down his spine that told him that someone, somewhere, was watching him. He didn't look around immediately. He didn't want whoever it was to know that he knew they were there. He continued down, keeping his eyes down and focusing more on his other senses, waiting for a better fix on where this person could be. That's when the shouting at the bottom of the stairs began.

"Edogawa-san!" A young female, maybe early twenties, yelled up, followed by a chorus of others. His eyes shot wide open, taking in the sea of people gathered in the street in front of the Mouri Detective Agency. They mostly drowned each other out, so he couldn't make out whole sentences. He was able to get a clip here or there, but that was about it.

"Edogawa-san! Is it true that-"

"...Solved before Friday?"

"Have you managed to crack-"

"How do you respond to the claims that you're the number-"

"...Boys are willing to-"

His brain finally starting up, he took in the crowd of people. Only a few were shouting at him, most just seemed to be milling about. The people who _were_ yelling questions at him all had a tv crew with them. _Reporters?_ he wondered. _What do they want with me? Shouldn't they be here for Occhan?_

Then he noticed something else. Something that, with the exception of the reporters, every person there had in common. In one form or another, they were all sporting the same symbol. Kaitou Kid's famous doodle. A few artistic liberties had been taken here or there; some winking, there were a few detached hands holding a gem with several lines sticking out if it to indicate that it was 'shinning', and one particularly disturbing shirt with Kaitou Kid standing on top of the world, flashing a peace sign and a cartoony grin.

That's when it all clicked together. Kaitou Kid had sent out a new notice. There was some kind of code or cypher in it. And since somehow he'd managed to become the Kid's nemesis, perhaps one of his larger lapses of judgement since being shrunken, everybody was expecting him to have already figured out its meaning.

He dropped a few more steps, hoping beyond hope that he'd be able to just get through the crowd without incident, survive school, find the notice online somewhere, and get to work. However, he never got to test his luck.

There was a strange sound behind him and by the time he looked, the door was already falling shut behind Ran as she descended a step before noticing him. "Conan-kun?" she asked, surprise and confusion melding into one. "What are you still doing-" that's when the flash of a camera caught her eye, and like someone had just drawn back the curtain to reveal the crowd she seemed to notice them all at once. "...Here?"

There was a strange moment where even the reporters were silent, where it was almost as if time had decided to take a coffee break and left them all hanging in suspended animation. Then the target of the questions changed abruptly. "Mouri-san!" one of the reporters called. Ran blinked, looking behind her, fully expecting to see her father. But when she realized that she was the only Mouri present she turned back with an even greater amount of confusion, slowly rotating a finger to point up toward her face. "Do you have any comments about the latest heist?"

The other reporters followed suit and, once again, the chorus of voices only managed to drown each other out. "Conan-kun," Ran asked, voice low and dangerous, making him flinch involuntarily. He'd been on the receiving end of that voice far too many time's, if only in another life. But this was different, more like a graze than a full blunt attack. Her words were aimed at him, but her anger was aimed right where her eyes were glued; On the crowd of reporters and Kid fans. Fans who, quite obviously, were no fans of his. "What do you think about staying home from school today?"

His response was automatic. A quick nod, and then she was grabbing his hand and leading him back into the Agency, Conan nearly tripping as she pulled him along. The last peep that anyone heard out of them was the door shutting with a solid thud behind them, deadbolt sliding into place.


	8. The Notice, The Letter, and The Notice

**A/N:Well this will be the last of the 'filler' chapters for a little while, thank goodness. Writing these is way more difficult than the more exciting chapters.(And probably not as fun to read, I'd imagine.)  
**

**The setup for Kaitou Kid's heist and the next case is here, and after this it's just mystery and heist, and a surprise or two I'm going to throw your way. One of them being one of the core plot points to this story. (I bet you were thinking I was going to pull a Gosho and just have thirty mysteries without any plot expansion, huh? ;P)**

**See if you guys can crack the Kid's message!**

**Review for any conceivable reason.  
**

** - - - - Reviews - - - - **

**Miruial: Haha ok. ^_^ I'll put my theory at the bottom of the story, to keep this top part from being massive. Gotta keep it clean.**

**Chelseaj500: Yep, and the suspense and mystery will only thicken from here on out. I can promise that. :P And thank you for reviewing every chapter so faithfully! I really do appreciate it!**

**YumeTakato: Yay, a new fan! Well, I hope I don't disappoint, and as I'm always stressing, don't be afraid to point out the flaws. I like being able to polish my work, but after looking at each chapter for so long, it becomes impossible to spot all of the flaws in it. (I hope that makes sense. XD)**

**- - - - Update! - - - - **

**I forgot to mention! The spaces in the number puzzle are only there because Fanfiction was deleting it for some reason. If you are trying to solve the riddle, don't be thrown by them!  
**

* * *

Conan sat on the couch in the Agency, really not sure what to do. Ran was on the phone with his school, calling to let them know that he wouldn't be attending that day. He couldn't hear what was being said on the other end and when Ran's features twisted into an annoyed frown, he could only guess at what they'd said. _Maybe even they want to know if I've solved the Kid riddle?_ he thought with a bit of wry humor.

He diverted his gaze to the large windows where it was easy to see the gathered masses outside. Some had left after he went back inside, including two of the journalists, but the rest remained. Out of pure curiosity, he reached for the remote laying on the seat next to him. The tv flickered on a moment later, an infomercial trying to sell something that resembled a shoebox filed will clear jelly that was supposedly the hottest craze for cat owners.

It disappeared with the push of a button, replaced with some cartoon. An anvil was falling through the air, the sides warping and bending as it fell. He didn't wait to see where it landed, almost certainly on the head of some unsuspecting character. Somehow, the humor in that wasn't all there after seeing one too many people crushed to death by falling objects.

Finally he landed on a news station. Better yet, one of the stations that still had a reporter outside of his house, which meant that they were surely still covering the Kid news. He missed the beginning of the sentence, but he could tell that the woman was indeed talking about the Kid notice. Only, it was nothing helpful. She only reiterated what he already knew. Kid had sent out a notice, the police were working on it, and they were doing what they could to protect the "Dragon's Eye". Apparently, that was the name of the jewel being targeted. He also gather that it was being kept at a very expensive looking restaurant, but that was about it for their 'in-depth' coverage.

Conan let out a dissatisfied groan, the screen fading to black as he jumped up out of his chair. He felt the weight of the two phones he had, one in each pocket, and decided that there were better, more reliable ways to go about getting the information he needed. Ran had long since ended her call with his school, now telling her own principle that she wouldn't be coming to class today, and trying to explain why her father couldn't be bothered to make the call himself.

Since she wasn't paying attention to him to begin with, slipping away without her noticing was easier than it usually was. He couldn't go into his room, Kogoro was still sleeping but would be waking up at any time now. So he went to the only place that he was guaranteed some sense of privacy; the bathroom.

He grabbed his phone, flipping through to his contacts, then paused as he tried to decide who to call. It only took a moment. There was only one person that made sense to call in a situation like this.

* * *

Agasa was leaned over a low work table, welding mask shut firmly over his face, sparks flying from a small metal device in front of him. It was a surprise he was working on for a certain shrunken detective, who was outgrowing one of his earlier gadgets. He'd been working on it for the last three days, and was nearly finished. All he really needed was to finish the shock-resistant, water-proof shell since, naturally, being around Shinichi was just about the most hazardous environment any electronic could face.

However, those weren't the only improvements he was making. Oh no. The first generation had been made in a hurry, but he was taking his time with this one. A lot of time, actually. He'd been working on it for three hours solid just this morning, before Haibara had even woken up. He couldn't help it. He'd been too excited to get it finished to sleep, and as soon as he'd found himself suddenly awake so early in the morning, he knew he'd never be able to settle back down.

But now, that decision was catching up to him. His hands felt sluggish and his eyes were growing heavy, and he was afraid that in his haste to finish the project he'd wind up making a mistake and actually postponing its completion by a few weeks at least as he waited for new materials. One of these near mistakes was when his phone suddenly went off, vibrating and screeching in his pocket. It took him a few seconds to shut off his electric welder, yank off his mask and check the caller ID before he answered. "Shi- Uh, Conan-kun?" he answered, his confusion obvious to anyone paying attention.

"Hey Hakase," came the quiet reply. "It's ok, I'm alone."

"What are you doing out of school, Ai-kun left half an hour ago?" he asked. Then, "Don't tell me you ran into a case on the way to school?"

"Not exactly. Well, kind of, really, but not how you're imagining it. Actually, I sort of need your help with it."

"Oh?" he asked. He cast a quick glance at his unfinished work before turning away, walking toward the stairs. Usually when his help was needed, it was either as a researcher, or as emergency transportation. And he could be neither of those things from his basement laboratory.

"Kaitou Kid sent out a heist notice last night," Conan said. After a short pause, and silence from the professor, he continued. "I need you to find out what it said."

"You didn't get a chance to read it?" he asked, while inside he was thinking _researcher it is_. He made his way to the top of the stairs, changing course toward his study. But that still didn't answer the question as to why he wasn't in school. Besides, this whole thing was strange. Why didn't Shinichi just look at the notice himself?

Conan, knowing about where the professor's thoughts were headed, decided to answer both questions at once. "I only found out after I tried to leave the Agency and was stopped by a crowd of Kid fans and reporters standing out in the street."

Agasa let out a low hum as he began to understand the situation. "This isn't good, Shinichi. The last thing you need is attention. What if _They_ start suspecting something is going on?"

"Believe me, I know," he groaned, not at the question but at what it entailed. "But I've thought this through from every direction. They have no reason to suspect me of anything just because I solved a few riddles. And if we're worried about me becoming famous in general, either way it's fairly much a guarantee that they'll run a story on me. If I don't show up, then I go from a small mention at the end of the article to the center of the story. People would want to know where I was and why I wasn't at the heist. And when people have questions, that leads to investigations. And where there are investigations..." He didn't need to finish that sentence, allowing it to hang. The message had been conveyed.

"But the same could be said for chasing after him," Agasa warned. "If you start to get your own fans again, then there will be stories about you, too."

A rush of static met the inventor's ear as Conan sighed. "I know. But it's the lesser of two evils. I just have to try and be more discreet, while still showing up."

Finally sitting down in his office chair Agasa shook the mouse to dispel the screensaver, currently nothing more than a small ball that bounced around the black screen changing shape and color every so often, and typed in his login and password. A quick search landed him on a Kaitou Kid fan page, where all of his riddles were displayed, including the most recent.

"I think I've found it Shinichi," he said as he read over the lines himself, trying to make sense out of it. He read it a few more times, taking his time, really thinking it over.

"Hakase?" Conan asked as the silence stretched on.

"Oh, right!" he stammered with a short chuckle. "Here goes. _When two becomes one, time itself will guide me to the Dragon's Eye on the eve of the exterminator's return._ Make any sense to you?"

Conan was silent, eyes gazing unseeing at the back of the bathroom door. "Nothing yet. Could you copy it and send it in an email? It might help if I can see it."

Agasa nodded before remembering that Conan couldn't see him over the phone. "Sure, one second."

But just as he was about to start, he saw a comment below the riddle and decided to scroll down to take a look. "Hey Shinichi?"

"Yeah?"

"Has Kid ever sent two notices before?"

Conan thought for a minute, trying to recall. "Well, there was the Black Star heist. The first notice was fake, to toy with the police, and then he sent the real notice. And-"

The professor shook his head, once again remembering that Conan couldn't see him. "No, no," he cut him off. "I mean two at once. Because it appears that he left two notices, side by side."

Conan muttered something the professor couldn't quite make out, then "What's it say?"

But the professor had already copied both notices into an e-mail and sent them to the 'Shinichi' phone. "Take a look."

Conan didn't know what he meant for a split second, then his other phone started to vibrate. He reached into his pocket, flipping open his other phone. A _One new message, _alert popped up, and once he closed it, found a_ one new voicemail _alert behind it. Ignoring it for now, he went straight to the new email from the professor and opened it. At the top was the first notice, but bellow that...

_Here's a hint, should my favorite little club of ace detectives figure it out._  
_.107011.0111011101. .070110.1011.0. .01.1.0. .0.101.0701.0.0.. .10.0.1._  
_070.1.0. 0.. .10.0 .10.1. .0.. .070.. ..0. .0.. .070. ..0.01. 1.0. 1.0 .010. ..0. 1.1.1_

"It's a challenge," the professor spoke. But even as he did so, something elsewhere caught his eye that made his already serious face fall into a frown. But it was nothing to bother anyone with now.

"At least the reporters make sense now," Conan spoke in a near whisper. He wracked his brain. This really threw a wrench into the works. Everything had to be reevaluated and reanalyzed. It wasn't that he was getting more popular, it was that he was being called out. Showing up but trying not to garner any attention wasn't possible anymore. Regardless of how low profile he was, if he still managed to stop the thief, then the thief would continue to acknowledge him. But he still couldn't suddenly stop chasing him, or the same consequences would ensue. It was the worst of both scenarios.

"Thank you Hakase," Conan said, still lost in thought.

"Oh, one more thing Shinichi."

Conan blinked. There was _more_? "Yeah?" he asked warily.

"I have something to show you later. Come by, maybe some time tomorrow, once you've sorted all of this out."

This tickled at his curiosity just enough to snap him out of his contemplation. "What is it?"

"Two things, actually," Agasa said with a brighter tone. "You'll see when you get here. Don't worry about it for now."

Conan wondered for a split second if he should push it, but decided to follow his advice and not worry about it. He had enough on his plate. "Thanks again," Conan said sincerely. "I hate to think of where I'd be without you."

The professor gave a short chuckle, then "Me too. I'd go crazy if I had that much free time." Then, joking aside, he finished with all seriousness "Just be careful."

"I will, Hakase," he said, and then the phone disconnected leaving the professor alone once more, at his desk, feeling nothing but sympathy for the young boy. He turned back to the screen, closing the tab with the Kid information on it and bookmarking a news report he'd found. He organized them then, moving the newest addition into a group with several other reports similar to it before standing. He yawned, his back crackling as he stretched. _Maybe,_ he thought, heading towards the second floor. _I'll just take a quick nap before Ai-kun gets home._

* * *

Conan had slipped out of the bathroom a moment later. He could hardly stay locked in there all day, after all. Besides, he'd long since memorized the notice, and he could think just as well on the couch as he could in the bathroom, couldn't he?

He flopped down on the couch, reclaiming the spot he'd taken earlier, and gazed at the black television screen. He could reach over, grab the remote and turn it on, if he wanted to. Which he really didn't. It was nice and quiet, and that suited him just fine. It let his mind mull over the notice, toss it around, examine the important parts, and the parts that might be disguised as insignificant. "When two become one," he muttered to himself. _Well, that could mean pretty much anything. _"Time itself will guide me," he spoke again, followed by a silent sigh. _Definitely Kid. Nobody else could be that theatrical._

He tossed ideas around, playing with them, like a small child finding that a square won't fit through a round hole and experimenting to see if any other shapes would. He thought, and pondered, and scrutinized until he could feel the beginnings of a headache settling between his eyes. During this time, he just kept staring ahead, in the dead silence, hoping desperately for inspiration, but none ever came.

Then suddenly, after what seemed like hours, he couldn't sit there any longer. If he did... Well, some of his thoughts even he could tell were being overly dramatic. But he still couldn't sit on the couch all day, staring at a blank television set until he fell into a sensory deficit coma.

That's when the front door opened, and Ran walked in, kicking off her shoes and bring in an armful of mail. It was only as she appeared that he realized he hadn't seen her ever since he'd left her on the phone to go call the professor. But surely it didn't take that long to get the mail, so where else had she been?

She plopped down in Kogoro's chair behind his desk, sifting through the mail. "Bill, bill, bill," with every muttered word, one envelope would end up in a stack. So far, that would be just one stack. Bills.

"Bill... A client?" she said surprised, turning the very last letter in her hands back and forth to see both the front and back. Conan hopped down from the couch to take a look, and Ran held it down once he was standing at her side.

"No return address?" he asked. Ran made quick work of the envelope, finding a letter and a check inside. Conan was instantly suspicious. Anonymous requests were rarely anonymous without a reason. He took a closer look as Ran unfolded the letter, holding it open for them both to see. The first thing he noticed was the paper. There was a look to it that just screamed _expensive taste_. It was very possibly from an upper-class company, maybe a law firm or the like. The letter seemed to be hand written with a very elegant handwriting style, further supporting his theory.

_Mouri-sama, _

_I request your help on a very personal matter. I have reason to believe that my love interest is being unfaithful.  
I have tried to deny my suspicions for long enough, and now I want proof, one way or the other. Meet me at  
Matsuki, we'll be able to blend in with the crowd. I'll make contact there, and give you additional information._

_I trust you are professional enough to keep this letter, the information it contains, and anything further that you may learn, confidential._

* * *

**A/N: Theory time! Feel free to skip this part if you wish, my fantastical readers. This is mostly for Miruial, but I want to keep it public in case our little discussion has caught anyone's attention. :P**

**That's mostly dead on what I was thinking. XD All I can do now is give further evidence, and add one or two things toward the bottom.  
**

**'Scar Akai' made the deductions at the end of the department store bomb scare case and sent them by email to Kogoro, who read them just after Conan's deductions. He wanted them out of there for some reason, I haven't figured this part out yet. This doesn't necessarily point to him being Bourbon, Akai has quite a head on his shoulders himself, but we are told that Bourbon is a deduction master. (or something along those lines.)  
**

**Then when Okiya bumps into Jodie (same episode again), he says they share a 50-50 responsibility because she "wasn't paying attention to her surroundings". Jodie was trying to find Akai. Yeeaaahh...**

**After ordering Chianti and Korn to stand down, Gin said "Always doing as he pleases. Irritating as usual." He then goes on to compare 'him' to Sherlock Holmes.  
**

**This would also explain Haibara's "feeling" about Okiya being with the Organization that comes and goes.  
**

**Not to mention that Akai Shuichi, Moroboshi Dai (his alias in the Org.) and Subaru Okiya are all play****s off of the Gundam charact****er Char Aznable. (I sort of cheated on this one. It came from the DC wiki. I never would have noticed otherwise.)**

**My only hesitation would be that it's almost _too _obvious. Think about how it was when everyone was so sure that Jodie was Vermouth. There were no hints, no little clues. I've had a moment or two when I've suspected that maybe Okiya is both Akai _and _Bourbon. I mean, a guy like Akai is not going to sit still. He'd re-enter the Organization in a heartbeat, but in order for it to go that quickly, he would have already needed to have planned on disappearing and becoming Okiya even before the Kir situation, and have already made several appearances as Okiya in front of them.**

**I also kind of have a suspicion that Scar Akai could be James Black, working for the Organization. Not to say that the fact that they've never appeared in the same room together is suspicious or anything, but he does seem to pop up right when James leaves, and disappear right when James arrives... Not to mention, with a name like James BLACK, it does seem a bit like an alias. James is also the only main FBI character to have not seen Scar Akai.**

**You know... Unless I'm forgetting something, and look really stupid now. ^_^**


	9. The Case of The Roadway Murder: Red

**A/N: Whew. I thought I'd _never _get this chapter finished. Well, sparring you the whole boring story, lets just say that after my week long Christmas hiatus (Dec 23'rd - Dec 30'th), I went to get on the computer... and my mouse had died. Better yet? The store was sold out. Are mice hot Christmas presents or something? Anyway, this was supposed to be the short version. I'm back now, and that's what counts, right?**

**As usually, this was not quite what I'd originally envisioned. These chapters seem to have a way of getting away from me. But, I think it will do, and I hope you all enjoy! : ) **

**This has been one of my more rushed chapter, believe it or not. (Seeing as how I've only actually been working on it for four days now.) So it's especially important here that you point out any parts that just don't jiive with you. (Is it possible to say the word 'jive' without dragging it out?)  
**

**Oh, and I have a question. I've seen it both ways, so I'm kind of unsure. ****Is it the Shounen Tantei, or the Shounen Tantei Dan? Just for future reference. : )**

**As always, if you see anything out of place, let me know. Was Conan out of character? Did I mess up an honorific? Did the descriptions leave something to be desired? And if so, how could I improve? (I decided to deviate a little from the usual rant, though of course all of it still applies. ;D)**

**Obligatory plea for refinement out of the way, here's my review responses! And remember, the Akai discussion is being continued at the bottom.**

**- - - - Reviews - - - -  
**

**x.S T R E A K Z.x: *Jumping for joy* I was seriously bouncing in my chair, grinning like a loon reading that. ^_^ Thankyouthankyouthankyou! And I'm sorry that this update wasn't quite as... prompt, as usual. :P**  
**I'm usually pretty Hakuba-like with the whole deadline thing, but it's not called the unexpected without reason.**  
**And I'm soooo scared that that's exactly what's going to happen. XD I can just imagine putting all this effort into a Kid heist, and then people being like "... That was IT?" No worries, though, it'll still be written, for better or worse. And ****Corvus**** will indeed make a few more appearances, not to worry.**

**blue-espeon: Sorry, I'm afraid I've imposed a wait. And thank you for being nitpicky! It's exactly those little details that escape me in my hours of editing. :P**

**Chelseaj500: Wow, having the BO make contact like that would be a _perfect _idea, but unfortunately, that isn't where things are headed. It would make quite an interesting story in its own right though. I can just see it, Gin continued to monitor the Detective Agency after the shoot out with Akai, and some of the phone calls made between a certain shrunken detective and biochemist put them on the Org's hitlist.**

**Miruial: Well I have to admit that I hardly ever get anything right. Unless something strikes me as particularly strange, I usually take the "sit back and wait for Shinichi to do it" route. In fact, I bet the number of times that I've correctly solved a case before the resolution could be counted on my fingers. XD**

**Jebbifurzz: *Facepalm.* I edited the chapter, many apologies. I guess it was so Sonoko-like, it must have been floating around in my head as something that she'd actually said. ^_^ Hehe well, the sincerest form of flattery...**

**Elena Forest: Oh, I was recommended was I? Well Streakz, if you're reading, extra brownie points to you. (And you already have quite a few!) Hmm, well the altered footage he made is certainly going to come back around. I hadn't really planned on writing a chapter about the police discovering... Well, I guess "remains" would be quite an appropriate term. However, I can certainly make sure to mention him! And obviously that won't be Gin and Vodka's only appearance. I just haven't quite gotten to that part of the story yet. Ack! And thanks for the tip, problem fixed.**

**Z: *Facepalms once more. Over the same issue.* My fault, my fault... When I went to edit out a previously mentioned mistake, I accidentally submitted the edited chapter into the chapter 5 slot, not chapter 3. If you're reading this, you probably already know the problem's been fixed. But if by some happenstance you are reading this without having read chapter 5, everything is once again in working order.**

* * *

A handful of hours later once Kogoro had finally decided to grace the world with his presence, lunch had been served and devoured, and Ran had shown her father the letter, they were once again piling into the rental car making their way toward Matsuki. As none of them happened to know what or where the place was, a quick look-up in the phone book had been required prior leaving. Except for Conan, of course, but he was hardly about to confess to keeping tabs on all of the popular places around town just in case the knowledge came in handy.

Matsuki had started off as just another over-priced seafood restaurant, but by that odd stroke of luck that seemed to come around every so often, quickly developed into a hotspot for the rich and well-to-do. They were booked a month in advance, and their originally over-priced food was a bargain compared to the items the newest menus sported. It seemed the higher their prices climbed, the more 'exclusive' the restaurant became, and so the more desirable it was to those that could afford it.

Thoughts of the absurdity of it all brought a small smile to Conan's eyes. But as he returned his attention to the blur of colors that were the buildings and lights of places past, it disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving him once more to gaze out the window, boredom the predominant emotion on the reflection staring back at him. He seriously doubted that tonight would amount to much. He wouldn't have even tagged along if he hadn't been cooped up inside of the house the whole day. Kogoro received at least one of these cases a month, usually from richer clients who could afford to pay his exorbitant fee when any other detective would only charge half the amount. The only real mystery here was who the client cold be, but even this mystery would reveal itself without prompt. Such an anticlimax, in his opinion, was even worse than having no mystery at all.

In the front, Kogoro was muttering something about all of the stupid people that weren't able to drive to save their life, but Conan didn't pay him much attention, instead keeping his gaze pinned to the last dark purple remnants of the sunset that he managed to catch between the gap in two buildings. After all, it would have been far more noteworthy had Kogoro ever stopped muttering, for that would either have meant they were the only car on the road or that everybody was driving 30 over the speed limit. And the latter was a maybe.

However, as the mutterings continued to grow in volume and frequency, his interest was roused, though in this state of boredom that really wasn't saying all that much. Twisting his head straight once more, his gaze fell on the canary yellow sportscar that seemed to be drifting from one side of the lane to the other. He noticed, his sense of cavalier interest growing once more, that all of the other cars seemed to have either backed off from the car and its odd swaying, or stepped on the gas and simply left it behind. _So they've been doing this for a while,_ he mused. Then, _probably some idiot who decided to have a few drinks after work._

The car continued to sway, one way then the other, usually not too extreme but occasionally giving a sharp jerk to one side or the other when it got too close to the line. Conan quickly lost interest, reverting back to his previous state of boredom, resorting once again to simply staring out the window and watching the buildings fly by. He yawned, then rubbed the following tear from his eye with the back of his fist. _All of the excitemeant must be catching up to me, _he thought, enough sarcasm to make even Haibara's eyebrow quirk, if only she had heard._  
_

Only a moment after that thought, several things seemed happen at once. The swerving car was riding on the lines on the left side of the lane, tires occasionally leaving a black scar on the median as they brushed against it, and a blue minivan in the right lane decided that that was the perfect time to speed ahead so that they wouldn't have to drive behind this erratic driver all the way home. But just as the minivan had nearly passed, with only inches to surpass the yellow sportscar, the car jerked suddenly to the right, once again over correcting itself. Front bumper met rear bumper with a solid thud, and the sharp jolt sent the minivan fishtailing. The sportscar went completely out of control, front tires skidding sideways for a time that was both brief and seemingly infinite as the surreal scene refused to register in any observer's mind. Then just as the car had skid roughly 90 degrees, it flipped.

Conan uttered something that surely would have warrented a scolding, had Kogoro not shouted the exact same thing and drowned him out. The sudden G-forces threw him violently forward as Kogoro slammed on the breaks, his seat belt feeling like some kind of skinny boa constrictor trying to crack his ribs as it held him firmly in his seat. But they weren't slowing down fast enough.

When canary yellow seemed to take up the entire windshield and impact seemed inevitable, Kogoro tugged the steering wheel hard to the left and pulled on the emergency break, sending them into what Conan could only hope was a controlled skid and not a wild slide. Tires squealed, the back of the car spun around sharply, and suddenly they found themselves at a dead stop after a 180 degree pivot facing oncoming traffic. _In the opposite lane, _some part of Conan's brain noted, but his conscious mind wasn't yet ready to take notice of this.

Where before the sound of their screeching tires had blocked it out, the sound of crunching metal and glass was plain to hear as the sportscar rolled one final time, at last coming to a rest right-side up, with it's front end resting on the median and it's rear sticking out into the road. Conan could see the minivan out of his window as the driver regained control and pulled over on the side of the road, a sizable dent on the side of their bumper all they had to show for their flirt with disaster. He couldn't see the sportscar, for it had come to rest somewhere out of view behind him, so he could only imagine the damage it had sustained.

After some length of time had passed, be it minutes or moments he couldn't say, Kogoro had pulled up on to the median. Once they were safely off the road, he let out a deep sigh, switching the car off. "Is everyone all right?"

"I'm ok," Conan responded, forcing himself to breathe after realizing that he'd been holding his breath ever since the collision.

"So am I," Ran said, a slight quiver to her voice that matched the way her hand was gently shaking. Kogoro yanked the keys from the ignition and threw open his door, remembering something just before he slammed it shut. He gave a quick "Call an ambulance! And the police," before running off to check on the other drivers and passengers. Ran found her phone in hand, as if by reflex, and dialed the all too familiar number without even needing to think about it.

Conan was barely out of the car before the first of the far off sirens could be heard. Apparently there had been a patrol car nearby, though he didn't think it would be able to arrive any time in the next few minutes, especially with the traffic that was starting to build up behind them. Kogoro was over making sure everyone in the minivan was ok, so Conan went to check on the occupants of the sportscar, who were likely far worse off. That is, if the pile of yellow wreckage before him still qualified as an automobile.

Shattered glass crunched underfoot, the remnants of what was once the side and rear windows. This did give him one advantage, however, for it allowed him an unimpeded view of the cars interior. He peered inside, finding only the form of a single man, anywhere from his late thirties to mid forties. There were shallow abrasions covering his face and arms from the sharp glass that had blown in on him, but they'd barely even drawn any blood, so more than likely they wouldn't be life threatening. Internal injuries, though, he couldn't be sure about. The man's arms and legs appeared unbroken, but that only meant they weren't broken to a horribly gruesome extent. Conan noticed the man looked slightly flushed. _Probably from alcohol, or the cold, _he concluded._ Maybe a combination of both._

He grabbed hold of the metal door handle, testing it out with a quick tug. _Locked. Or Jammed._ He reached inside, making sure the door was unlocked, and tried again. Still nothing. He raced around to the other side of the car, trying the passenger side door as well, but the effort was made in vain. He grunted and bared his teeth as he pulled, utilizing every ounce of his body weight to try and pry the door open. But still, success eluded him. _If only I were stronger, _he growled. He stopped soon after, panting from the effort. His breath fanned out in great white plumes in front of his eyes, like some kind of enraged dragon ready to let out its deadly blaze. A realization struck. He looked up, observing the driver once more. _One, _he counted in his head. _Two, three, _a small tug in his gut told him that his suspicions had been right. _Four... Five._

Over the course of the last five seconds, the driver's chest hadn't budged. He wasn't breathing. "Ojisan!" He yelled, scowling at his own inattentiveness. How could he have missed that? Was he too wrapped up in his own self-pity, his own pining for his older stronger body, to notice a man dieing right in front of his eyes?

It was then that he heard the opening of a car door, and turned in time to see it fall shut behind a female officer, chocolate brown hair cascading to just bellow her shoulders. Yumi, her usual bubbly attitude for the moment suppressed under a veil of professionalism, took in the three involved cars with a careful but tired eye. Her shift was _supposed_ to be over in less than ten minutes, and then she gets a call like this?

Kogoro had started toward his little nuisance in glasses, ready to give him a wallop over the head if he'd been called away for no good reason. He'd already opened his mouth to say something along the lines of "This had better be good" when Conan cut him off, yelling it loudly enough for everyone around to hear. "He's not breathing! I can't open the doors, they're jammed!"

* * *

Everyone, excluding the pregnant wife of the minivan's driver and their four year old son, had taken turns trying to get the door open. However, three minutes after first discovering that the driver wasn't breathing, and knowing that his heart had stopped some time before he'd discovered this, Conan backed away with a solemn expression. The man was dead, whether or not the others realized it. And he wasn't going to be the one to say anything. He saw his own emotions reflected in Kogoro's eyes. Obviously the same thought had occurred to him.

It wasn't long before the paramedics arrived, giving the mother, child and husband a clean bill of health. But with a quick check of the sportscar's driver's pulse, one paramedic simply gave a date and time while the other wrote it down. It was impossible to attempt resuscitation with him stuck in the car, and they'd have to wait for the fire department to cut him out. Besides the fact that he hadn't taken a breath in well over five minutes, any doubt was erased by the icy chill the body had already taken on.

Meanwhile, Conan was running some peculiarities through his mind. There weren't any visible wounds, aside from the shallow scratches. _The scratches that didn't bleed much at all._ He hadn't thought much of it at the time, being more preoccupied trying to get the man out of the car, but something about them seemed off. The paramedics and two other police officers that had arrived were discussing something over by the ambulance, Yumi was taking statements from Kogoro, Ran, and the husband and wife from the minivan.

While everyone was distracted he took the chance to look at those cuts again. He stepped lightly, fearful that should a piece of glass crunch too loudly under a careless step it would bring everyone's attention crashing down on him. After dodging around a couple of larger pieces of glass, he found himself back at the driver side door, examining the driver once more.

His face became a solid mask of concentration, thumb and forefinger sliding into place beneath his chin. _His face appears flushed, _he reiterated to himself. _Flushing involves the expansion of blood vessels, allowing more blood into the cheeks. So then, why did these lacerations draw as little blood as they did? _He came to a conclusion that didn't make any sense. _If the scratches are postmortem, then that means he was dead before the glass shattered. And since the glass shattered when the car started to roll... He would have had to have been dead before he ever hit the minivan._

The obvious, immediate thought that came to mind was _but the dead can't drive! _Nonetheless, the evidence stared him right in the face.

Looking for anything else that could have been overlooked, he noticed something peculiar once more, this time with the man's hands. His fingertips, to be more precise. _There's no way, _he realized. He took another look at the man's face, then his fingertips, and continued to eye them back and forth, comparing them to make certain that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing._ They're still red._ _Not only should the blood have drained away by now, but it's not quite the right color. It's too bright to be natural._

He didn't have many clues to go on, but slowly the pieces were falling together. Something happened in that car, in the last few minutes of the man's life. And since he didn't pull over, he probably never knew it was coming.

* * *

**Welcome back to _T__heory Time _everyone! *Theme music plays as the audience applauds.***

**blue-espeon: Haha, 'red' herring. Now that's punny.**

**Pu7o: True, very true. The only really obvious hint is that Conan immediately trusted Okiya from the moment he met him, even offering to let him stay in the Kudo mansion. Everything else you really have to look for.**

**Miruial: I know, i want more storyline episodes! XD **  
**Well, maybe not thaaat obvious, but like I said I'm not usually the one to pick up on the hints before everything's revealed. But maybe these were just things I happened to actually notice for once. :P **  
**That's what I always hope for, that at the end of an episode or series something unexpected happens that throws all of your preconceptions out the window. Those are always the best cases.**

**YumeTakato: I got quite a bit of info from the detectiveconanworld wiki, but now I guess I'll have to give the dctp a look too. : )**


	10. The Case of The Roadway Murder: Depart

**A/N: Hello, hello, my wonderful fans. Well, it seems this story isn't ready to start back up without any glitches. You see this whole "Roadway Murder" arc is in trouble. Of course, I do my research, and plenty of it, and it seemed that everything was all ready to go. Until, of course, I decide to look _one _last time. Without going into details (as I may find a way to salvage it) The 'murder weapon' is... a little off the mark. So, I'm trying to not only come up with an entire case on the fly, but an entire case that's _already been set up._ Not an easy thing to do. Fortunately, I can still do a (very) little bit of the story without having to worry about that, and I gave us a little peek inside the Org. to keep everyone happy. But until this is resolved that's all I can do. So rather than whittling away at the finer points of the plot by myself, I thought I'd put out this little poll:**

**Should I:  
A) Scrap the whole arc, delete the chapters already posted (I'd probably repost the BO scene), and just move on to the Kid heist,  
B) Say 'screw reality!' and just do things how I was going to before, or  
C) Try to iron out the details, and take however long it might take?**

**So far, I'm trying for C, as that's my goal. But, if that takes me more than a few days, and I have fans asking me to either do A or B, I would be completely fine with that. I apologize a thousand times over for this. Like I said, I did my research, and I thought this was sound, but even Conan would come to the wrong conclusions if he had bad information, ne?  
**

**Well, now that that's done, here's my reviewer responses!**

**- - - - Reviews! - - - - **

**Chelseaj500: Thank you again for reviewing! ^_^ I'm looking forward to your opinion on this whole screw-up. I apologize again for it. :/**

**Jebbifurzz: I can see several similarities if I start to look for them. Even our chapter naming scheme is similar, with a case in multiple parts and small 'intermission' sort of chapters. I'm hoping to have your input on this whole problem I'm having, as I've been having exactly those same feelings, especially about this chapter and the last one. (And the more I pour over all of this information, the more a redo is starting to sound appealing.)**

**ZXCVBNMEM: Hehehe I'll take that as a compliment. ^_^**

**YumeTakato: See me now? :P**

* * *

_What could cause a red coloring of the skin?_ he wondered. It certainly wasn't any kind of physical trauma. _So a poison then?_ He flipped methodically through a mental array of poisoning signs and symptoms. The pattern of discoloration struck him as being very similar to cyanosis, though the color was wrong. Cyanosis, caused by oxygen deprivation, would give the victim's skin a blue discoloration. _But red?_ He delved deeper into the masses of information he had stored within his cranium, theories being shot down nearly as quickly as he could churn them out.

_Mercury poisoning?_ he wondered. _No, there aren't any of the other symptoms. Besides, mercury wouldn't kill you that quickly... Hmm, maybe there's some connection to his work?_ He paused, working that possibility through. _Come to think of it, I don't even know the guy's name, let alone what he does. I need more information. But how am I supposed to get any kind of information on him without telling everyone that he was murdered?_

_I can't point anything out to the police. Ran is way too suspicious._ Still, he noted this as a possible last resort. _I could put Occhan to sleep, but if I use my only tranquilizer dart just to convince them that this wasn't an accident, I won't be able to solve the case as sleeping Kogoro. Third..._ He tried to think of a third option, but nothing came to mind. _Unless..._ he shook his head. He'd need more evidence to do that, and that defeated the whole point.

He paced up and down the side of the car, glass being pulverized into a powder beneath him. The wind was starting to pick up, and whenever a chill would race through him, he'd scold himself for not listening to Ran and bringing something warmer. But he couldn't allow the distractions to go on for long, and tried to ignore how cold the air was getting to be.

His arms were crossed tight against his chest, shaking ever so slightly. He took a moment to wipe the fog from his glasses and try to calm himself with a steadying breath. The wind ruffled his hair, the fog still hung stubbornly to the glass, and he was quickly finding out that his mittens were no substitute for a genuine microfiber cloth, but he had to make do with what he had.

He jumped with a start at the distinctive sound of cracking glass. He felt the glasses in his hand slip out of his grasp as he spun around as quickly as he could without losing his balance, only to come face to face with Ran.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She was looking down at him with a sad smile, like he'd just reminded her of an old childhood pet that'd died a long time ago. Or maybe, a good friend she hadn't seen in a long time.

She picked his glasses up off the ground, and Conan's heart raced. "Thanks Ran-neechan!" he said, swiping the glasses out of her hand and giving her a halfhearted sheepish grin. That look was as good as tearing his heart out and stabbing it with a fork.

Her melancholic smile slowly dissolving to be replaced by a genuine one, even as a dangerous glint of curiosity lit up her eyes. "What are you doing over here, anyway?"

The thought of lying to her even more twisted his gut in a horrible way. He felt like some kind of awful monster that the townsfolk should be chasing away with pitchforks and torches."I was checking for gasoline fumes," he said somberly, not quite able to hold up his usual carefree persona. "Car's often get leaks in the gas tank when they flip, and sometimes they can explode._" _

_Of course, it would be very rare for a car to burst into flames after this long, but she doesn't need to know I know that._

Ran reached out a hand, a little more than halfway between the two of them in a manner that clearly said _grab me_. Conan tentatively reached out and took hold of her hand, and she started leading him away from the wreckage and back towards their rental, which Kogoro was leaning against with a cigarette held firmly between his lips as he fished for a lighter in his pocket. "Wh-Where are we going?" he asked, failing to hide the shaking in his voice as another chill passed down his spine.

"Officer Yumi is finished with us," she informed him. "So we can finally head home."

He nearly tripped over his own feet. _This is not good. _He shot a look back at the wreckage behind him. _I need to do something, now. If they tow that car and the body is moved to the morgue, they'll destroy the evidence!_ He set his eyes forward, unseeing, trying to find a way out of this. _Obviously I can't just tell them that I figured out this wasn't an accident. But if I don't do anything, someone's going to get away with murder!_

He didn't have any time. They were only steps away from the car, and if he was going to do something, it was now or never.

* * *

A lone man made his way through the bland beige halls at a modest pace, eyes gazing straight ahead. Messy brown hair covered half of his face while the black fedora resting on his crown, tilted near imperceptibly forward, shadowed the rest. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their glow almost too bright after having just come in from the dark night streets. He passed doorway after doorway, all closed and locked securely, paying the mahogany doors slightly less attention than he would have a wad of used chewing gum discarded on the sidewalk.

He was dressed in a close fitting black suit, built remarkably similar to that of a policeman's uniform but without any of the badges or lettering. The harsh claps of his black shoes echoed in the narrow space as they beat against the hard tiled floor, each clack bringing him one step closer to his destination.

As the hall turned abruptly to the right, he came to a halt. He pushed the call button for the elevator before him, waiting patiently for the doors to glide open. After it arrived, he'd stepped inside, and he'd punched the number for the top floor, he leaned against the side. The current floor was displayed on a digital readout above the doors, the numbers ticking by one by one. When the red glowing numbers read 43, the doors parted and he resumed his purposeful stride toward the door. The _only _door. It was obviously made to give guests quite an impression, being made of solid oak and standing over 5 meters in height.

He raised his fist as if to knock on the door, but hesitated. Something he never did. He was in trouble, he was sure of it. He might have secured their prize, and eliminated those two annoying pigs that saw him do it, but he'd been _caught_ in the act. He might have been able to pin the blame on a dead man, but someone would connect the dots sooner or later. Collecting himself with a mental shake, he gave the door three hard raps before taking a step back.

No, he'd been an assassin since he was 17. Every mission he'd pulled off for the past 16 years had been successful. Surely that entitled him to at least _one_ mistake, didn't it?

The door slipped open, the old dry hinges whining in protest to the movement. The office was definitely that of someone with power. Large pine desk, new red wine carpeting, cherry bookshelves filled with leather bound volumes of various subjects and sizes. Immediately apparent was the scent of cigar smoke; Wood polish and old leather creeping in a moment later.

The sole light was a brass lamp on the desk, and even that wasn't very bright. The shadows it cast were indistinct and elongated, giving the whole office a haunted, otherworldly feel. The back wall was made entirely of glass, tinted so dark it may as well have been crafted from solid obsidian. It may well have been.

"Come in, Whiskey," a voice spoke from the high-backed chair. It was charming, yet rough as sandpaper. A voice that could just as easily give a speech to the upper class as an order to kill.

The man, Whiskey, did as he was told, taking a few tentative steps inside. It wasn't the first time he'd been in this office, far from it. But, this was the first time that he'd ever had something to fear.

"Thank you," the voice spoke again. "Vermouth, close the door, if you'd please."

The door groaned as it shut, and instantly Whiskey's eyes turned to a womanly figure with one hand extended in his direction as the other pushed the door shut with a soft click. The hand extended towards him, he could tell, held a gun poised to put a bullet through his brain.

"Now," the voice carried on in a carefree manner, "explain to me exactly what happened."

Whiskey was a man that wasn't shaken easily, but the boss did not hesitate to weed out any weak links in the Organization. He found that he had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak. "Well, you see, everything went according to plan until he showed up!" It was difficult to get the words to start, but once they began to flow there was no holding them back. "I mean, I killed that guard and took his uniform, nobody suspected a thing. I even spoke in a Kansai Ben accent all day! I knocked the target out and lit the place on fire, left the usual false evidence and already had some other sap in cuffs. Then this brat shows up out of _nowhere _and starts telling everyone that I was guilty, and explains to them exactly what happened like he had _been there_ and before I knew it, there were these cops coming after me and-"

The boss raised a hand, and it was like some imaginary mute button had been pressed. His mouth kept moving for a moment, but the sound had already died.

The room was silent for a beat. But when the boss spoke, laced with a quiet rage that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, he wished the silence could have stretched on forever. "You mean to tell me, you were outsmarted by a_ child_, Matsuda?"

His forehead broke out in a cold sweat, his stomach dropped, and his mouth was so dry it might as well have been filled with sand. He'd said his real name. "But, he lives with that detective! Mouri Kogoro! He's even in the paper as Kaitou Kid's nemesis! He's better than the cops! I'm telling you, this is no ordinary-"

The sound of a gunshot cut him off abruptly. It was followed shortly by the thud of Whiskey's crumpling body. He'd felt no pain, and only experienced minimal amounts of fear. That's more than most of the members who'd outlived their usefulness could have asked for. However, the shot had not come from Vermouth, who was nonchalantly slipping her pistol back into it's hidden holster, but the the smoking barrel of the silver revolver held by the boss himself.

"Incompetence cannot be tolerated Vermouth, no matter how much you wish you could ignore it." The boss pulled the gun back out from under the sparse light of the lamp, concealing its existence once more.

"Do you think I should do a follow up report on the kid?" Vermouth asked.

The boss chuckled, an eerie sound that set even her nerves on edge. "Whiskey was one of my best assassins, but any man can make a mistake. I was even willing to let him live, until he came up with that ridiculous excuse." He didn't say another word on the matter, and so she took that as a _no_.

"Is that all you wanted, sir?" she asked.

"Why the hurry?" he asked, a suave charisma beginning to overtake the cool, emotionless tones of but only a moment ago. "Do you have someplace you need to be?"

She knew what he was trying for, which was a considerable contribution to the small smirk that crept across her lips. "I do, actually. If we're to keep up with our latest quota, I need to go find some more... recruits, don't I?"

He sighed, standing, and sliding a drawer open. "What a shame." He placed his gun on the velvet cushion inside the drawer like it was a fragile valuable, then slid the drawer closed once more. "I was hoping we could go out to dinner tonight. It's been a while since we've gotten to spend any time alone."

Vermouth's grin only grew. "Yes, but soon, we'll have all the time in the world. Both of us will." She chose that time to open the door, allowing a sliver of dim light to flood the floor, illuminating the still-warm corpse.

Apparently, this brought the boss' attention back to the man that he'd shot just moments before, who he'd all but forgotten about. "Oh, " he called, stopping her half through the doorway. "Could you get Crane to clean this mess up?"

"Of course," she answered, pulling the door shut behind her. The smile fell immediately to be replaced by a cold look of indifference, disguising the revulsion she felt. The elevator was still there, waiting to take her away, and a small sense of relief filled her. _One of these days, _she thought as the doors closed, enveloping her in generic, melodious music. _Someone is going to put that man in his place. _

The doors opened with a ding fairly quickly, though after all, she had only been descending a single floor. _I just hope I'm the one that gets to do it._


	11. The Case of The Roadway Murder: Pressure

**A/N: Hello once again, everybody! **

**I have the plot arc resolved, so have no fear! I have a cold so I was able to spend more time than usual working it out, but that also means the NyQuil might have influenced my hand. XD If something sounds a little looney or odd, point it out and I'll address it once I'm clear-headed again. I tried to keep it as close to what I know as I could, but I did wonder off into some unknown territory. But I was also able to keep it fairly close to my original idea, so I guess it was a fair compromise between the two.**

**I just felt like sharing this:  
This is by far, already, the longest story I've ever written. Not to mention my first mystery story, and my first DC fanfic. It's been a wonderful learning experience, and I once again apologize for the problems I've been having. I just wanted to give a shout out to _EVERYONE_ still reading at this point, because you are all _absolutely amazing_! : )**

**Now, I think this chapter came out all right. I tried to add in a little more dialog, because I've noticed that I don't seem to do very much, but that's only because I'm not very good at it. ^_^ Overall, I think it could have been better, sure, but I don't think it'll disappoint. Of course, if it _does_...**

**LET ME KNOW! Yes, that's right, believe it or not, I actually want to know if there's a way I can improve the story. Shocking, no? Is anyone out of character, did I misuse an honorific, are there spelling/punctuation****/grammar**** errors, did something seem unbelievable? Then tell me in a review. Whether it means swapping the 'e' and the 'h' if I typed 'teh', or rewriting a paragraph to better express a confusing idea, or rewriting the chapter as a whole to better hone the clues given, or even change the way Conan comes to his conclusions entirely. I WANNA KNOOOOW!  
**

**- - - - Reviews! - - - - **

**Chelseaj500: I'd actually thought of maybe doing something like that, but it felt sort of like a cop-out. Plus, I had no idea what the BO should think to best keep the story on track. :P Anyway, I've come up with a plan, I just hope it's ok! ^_^  
**

**Miruial: Hehe well, I think I wound up somewhere in between those two. This certainly isn't what I'd originally envisioned, but it's not toooo far off, and while it sounds plausible I'm really clueless as to whether or not this'd actually work. XD  
**

**ZXCVBNMEM: Opening 24? (I kid, I kid, and I take that as a compliment. :P)  
**

**Elena Forest: Well, hopefully this chapter isn't the one that breaks that 'good' trend, eh? And I was wondering where you'd gone, I thought Chapter 9 had scared you off. ^_^  
**

* * *

_I'm out of time!_ His left hand was still held in Ran's warm grip as he was marched towards the car. If he was made to get inside, it was all over. It would be impossible to both keep his cover and reveal this incident as no mere accident. And in that moment, two forces that had never before met clashed. His need to remain Conan, and his need to solve the mystery and put a criminal behind bars. The two sides battled it out, and the winner was clear in less time than it took him to take a single step.

Solving mysteries was a _desire_. He desired nothing more than that one moment of revelation, where a seemingly impossible problem has all of its inner workings laid bare at his feet. But staying Edogawa Conan, at least for now, was a _need_. He simply wouldn't survive if Ran... He couldn't even finish the thought.

With only five steps remaining before he would be at the car's side, the steps of a third grader no less, a plan had been meticulously crafted and completed. It was one, last, desperate ace up his sleeve. Timing would be everything, but it _would_ work. He'd _make_ it work. As soon as Ran let go of his hand, he'd be ready.

His gaze shifted back toward reality, focusing in on Kogoro as he slid into the driver's seat, door falling shut behind him, on the opposite side of where he and Ran were headed. He felt the cold reclaim his fingers when they were released from her grasp, reaching instead for the handle of his door, opening it with one fluid motion. He smiled up at her, saying in a brighter tone than he felt "Thank you Ran-neechan."

He caught a quick half-smile as it crossed her face, too little to feel like he should think anything of it but more than enough to cause a similar fleeting smile of his own. He waited until her attention was focused on opening her own door, then he raised his watch while simultaneously flicking the crosshairs up, aiming through his open door and the gap between the seats with a speed that only years of practice had brought him. With a nearly silent _swich,_ the dart fired.

Kogoro's arm jumped half-way to his neck, yelling "Wha-!", only to fall back toward his side, limp by by the time his drunken-sounding "Yok-kaaaaaa!" had come to it's end. Conan flinched, a jolt of panic hitting his nerves upon noticing one particular abnormality. _Kuso, he's looking up!_

"Dad?" Ran asked worriedly, her hand uncertainly approaching his slumped shoulder just as Conan shot like a rocket into the back. With enough of his body out of sight behind the passenger seat, Conan whipped the bowtie out of his pocket, already set on Kogoro's bassy 87-21 configuration from the last time he'd used it.

"Ran," he said urgently, "Is Yumi-san still here?" Ran twisted around to look behind her after pulling her arm back out of the window. Conan took his chance to push Kogoro's face down so that his mouth wasn't quite so visible, then ducked back behind the passenger seat.

"Yes, she is," Ran said questioningly.

"Good, I might have just figured something out. Go ask her for the sportscar driver's name, age, occupation, and see if he has any friends that work around machinery."

"What for?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Dad, what does any of that have to do with-"

"Just see if he does," Conan cut her off in Kogoro's brusque tones. "It's important."

"Geez," she murmured, but turned to march off toward the squad car nonetheless. "I'll be right back Conan-kun," she called over her shoulder right after he'd shoved the bowtie behind his back.

"Hai!"

He waited for her to get just a little farther away, then scooted to the opposite side of the car, standing in the seat to better reach Kogoro. He'd asked her to do those things simply to buy himself a few spare minutes, but at the same time, he was genuinely curious. All too often, there was information that could be gathered from things such as a name or occupation, and they might just be the last bit of information he needed to put all of the clues in their proper order.

He reached a hand up to his glasses, snapping the microphone off the frame and slipped it into Kogoro's shirt pocket before sticking the speaker under the folds of his collar. That way, he could hear if Ran made it back to the car before he did, and be able to reply, too. He opened the drivers door, cautious of making any noise that might give him away, and jumped back out into the frigid nights air. Ducking low, he made his way towards the wreckage. Silence might have been his first priority, but speed was definitely a close second. He wasn't sure how much time he'd just earned, but if he didn't have a case and _solve_ it before Kogoro woke up... Well, things would get very interesting very fast.

Once he'd made it to the yellow car's side once more, he went immediately for the windows. There was no such thing as a perfect crime, and any imperfect crime left evidence. And so long as he wasn't overlooking something, the only place he hadn't looked was the car's interior. He stepped lightly, though the glass had more or less been pulverized into a fine powder, what with himself, Ran, Kogoro, the police, and more having all walked over it. There were still of course pieces that would snap as he'd set his full weight on them, and whenever that happened he'd freeze, if only long enough to look back at the group of other cars and make sure that he hadn't grabbed anyone's attention.

_There has to be something,_ he thought, expression grim as he scanned the interior of the car. He looked at the controls, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The radio was off, the heater was on, nothing unusual there. There weren't any strange objects in the car, not that he'd exactly expected to find an empty syringe lying in the floor.

He was starting to get frustrated with the whole thing. _What am I _missing_?_ he growled to himself. _There has to be something!_ He took a step back, regarding the scene as a whole, trying to see the whole picture. _There has to..._

He circled around to the other side, doing the same. But it was difficult to look for some kind of clue when the car looked like it had been through a war zone. He took another step back, then another, scanning it back and forth for something, _anything_. He went to take a third step back when his heel struck something laying on the asphalt that rang with a metallic, resonating hum. His first instinct had been _soda can_, but, after checking that no one had heard the noise he'd made, he found that it was something else entirely.

He bent down to pick it up, pulling a white cloth out of his pocket as he did so. _It's warm,_ he noted. It was a steely grey-silver, about the general size and shape of a thermos. It was fairly light, which paired with the resonating ringing sound it'd made when he'd kicked it, reinforced his theory that it was hollow. There was one odd dent on it's side, and though the metal seemed thin he felt pretty certain that even a super-kick wouldn't have been able to dent it like that, let alone inadvertently bumping it with his heel. _So if it wasn't me, _he thought, gazing up to the wreckage again. _It was most likely in the accident._

He examined one end of it then, realizing that it wasn't one solid piece, but three. There was a bottom and a top plate welded onto a hollow cylinder, but for what purpose? He scrutinized it more closely, holding the end up to his face. _These welds don't look professional, _he noted once more._ They're too messy, and even though they don't look very old they've already started to crack._ He flipped it over, finding similar welds and signs of stress on that sides end as well.

But what got his attention was a small pen sized hole in the center of the end plate that seemed to flair outwards, almost like something had been shot through it. He scanned for a matching entry hole, but wasn't able to find anything. "But then..." he murmured aloud. Stress on the welds, an odd hole, and a dent on the side that meant it had most likely come from or been hit by the sportscar. _Though if it had been hit, _he amended himself, _it would have been thrown farther away. So, on the car it is then._

But just as he felt a revelation coming on, like the answer was right in front of him, if only he could look at the problem from the proper perspective...

"Ide Konzo."

Conan jumped, a startled yelp clawed at the bottom of his throat but he kept it down. It took him a moment to realize that Ran's voice was not in fact behind him, but being picked up by the speaker he'd left on Kogoro. "Twice," he muttered to himself, breathing a little quicker than normal. He once again pulled out the bowtie, holding it up to his mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Conan asked, Kogoro's voice issuing forth some ways away from the speaker under his collar.

He could practically hear her cross her arms. "His name, is Ide Konzo. He's 45, a lawyer, and doesn't know anyone who works on machines." She paused for a second, then added on tersely "I hope you're happy, Yumi-san had to to call Takagi-keiji just to look up that last one."

"Geez," he huffed, "you sound like your mother." Then, _Takagi-keiji?_ He found it an odd choice. He'd assumed, from the way they interacted, that Yumi would've been much closer to Satou. Not to mention they were the only two female officers he'd ever seen, and usually there would be some form of camaraderie there. Unless... Maybe they were fighting? He shook his head as if to shake the stray thoughts out. _There's time for office drama later!_

"Dad!" came Ran's exasperated combination of a sigh and a groan.

"Alright, go tell Yumi-san that I've solved the case."

"What case?" she asked, the annoyance still evident in her tone.

Conan, eyes ablaze with victory, confident grin in place, finally had all of the puzzle pieces fitting together. "The murder of Ide Konzo."

* * *

Ten minutes later marked the arrival of two more police cars to the scene. Yumi, being in traffic and not homicide, had radioed in as soon as she was made aware of the situation. The situation being that a world renowned detective had said that someone had been murdered, and generally those situations were best not to ignore.

The first vehicle to arrive was a standard police model with its lights on, where a disgruntled Megure exited. Takagi followed shortly, a serious glint in his eyes. Only moments later the two were visible only as silhouettes as another car approached from behind with its high beams on. After a general moving of arms to shield their eyes by all of those already gathered around the Mouri's rental car, the lights disappeared and a team of three forensics officers appeared, who immediately seemed to recruit the two other officers on the scene as Yumi made her way over to Takagi. She appeared to want to discuss something with him, but Megure had already begun speaking before she even got the chance.

"Alright Mouri-san," he'd started in a weary tone, a hint of aggravation creeping in as he went on. "Can we skip all of the theatrics tonight and just get on with the case? My dinners getting cold here."

"Of course," Conan spoke into his bowtie, currently sitting with his back to the rear passenger wheel since everyone seemed to have congregated on the driver's side, as Kogoro was still in his seat and there was very little chance that that would change any time soon. At least, so he hoped. He wasn't sure of the exact time that he'd knocked Kogoro out, the irony of that was almost painful, but he did know that he didn't have time to be subtle or show off. He wasn't even sure if he'd get through a full thorough explanation.

"Takagi-keiji," he started. Takagi gave a quick nervous salute as the spotlight seemed to fall on him. "Could you please open the hood of that patrol car?"

The detective approached the car the forensics team had arrived in, opening the driver door and popping the hood before making his way back around to the front. Sliding gloved fingertips into the small crack between hood and car body, he lifted the hood up and propped it open, giving everyone a good view of the engine compartment. Almost as importantly, it allowed Conan to move from his spot while everyone had their backs to him.

"Alright, Conan-kun," he said. He always got a little kick out of calling himself, but now wasn't quite the time to indulge in a private joke.

"Hai Ojisan!" he called in his own voice, double checking that the bowtie had been switched off and stuffing it in his pocket. He ran around the side of the rental, by this time every pair of eyes had turned to this latest development, then handed Takagi a bundle of white cloth that was clearly concealing something inside.

"Huh?" Takagi murmured, allowing the cloth to fall open in his hand. Inside was the metal cylinder Conan had found by the sportscar, as well as a road flare. In the time that everyone's attention had been focused on the odd items in Takagi's palm, Conan had made his way back to his spot by the rear passenger wheel.

Megure regarded the contents of the cloth for a moment before his gaze returned to Kogoro. "What is it?"

"That," Conan spoke in Kogoro's voice, "is the key to the trick that was used to murder Ide Konzo."

Megure turned his full attention to the piece of metal in Takagi's hands, and upon noticing the odd dint in its side turned to the forensics team. "Did you search this for blood?"

"There's no need, Keibu," Conan interrupted. "This wasn't used as a club, but a housing."

"Look, if you know something just tell us already!" Megure fumed.

"Takagi-keiji, would you mind starting that patrol car before I go any farther?" he asked.

"Uh, hai," he said with an uncertain glance at the cruiser.

"Here are the keys, Keiji-san," one of the forensic officers said as they held the aforementioned keys out to the detective. With an exchange of items, Takagi taking the keys and the officer taking the cylinder and flare bundled together in the white cloth. Takagi climbed in behind the wheel, and a moment later the engine roared to life.

"Good, now, make sure that the heater is turned on, and that it's taking in fresh air from outside and not recirculating the air inside."

Takagi checked the controls, but seeing as how he didn't touch any of them, they apparently already met those specifications. Conan peeked around the corner when no response came, seeing that Takagi was waiting for further instructions, then ducked back behind the rental.

"Next, roll down the windows and take the road flare."

Takagi, growing more confused by the moment, once again obliged and soon had the road flare held in his hand.

"Light the flare so that the smoke is aimed towards the windshield."

"Mouri-san," Megure warned, "there had better be a point to all of this."

Conan peeked again, just in time to see Takagi light the flare and hold it close to the windshield, where a current of air sucked the smoke down the glass and into the recessed lip between the windshield and the body of the car. "Just take a look for yourself Keibu." Just as he'd said this, the view they had of the inside of the police car slowly began to grow darker and hazy, and a few more seconds later smoke was clearly visible entering the cabin.

"You see, the air intake for the heater and air conditioner is right below the windshield, near where the windshield wipers attach. The smoke from the flare is being pulled in, and what isn't being stopped by the air filters leaks into the cabin. Now imagine that this smoke was colorless, scentless, tasteless, and nonirritating. It would be impossible to tell whether it was even there. And now imagine," he spoke, voice growing lower, "that it could kill you in minutes."

"Are you saying that he was killed by a flare?" Megure asked.

"Not quite, Megure-keibu. Besides, there's still another piece to the puzzle. What about the metal cylinder?" Conan glanced at his watch._ Another five minutes has gone by, I have to hurry._ "You see," he continued without even giving anyone a chance to figure it out on their own, something he very rarely did. "The cylinder was custom made. The welds were done very sloppily, so they were likely made by someone without much experience. The back piece was fairly simple, just a round piece of metal welded to another. But the front required a bit more work."

He watched, waiting as Megure held it up to eye level and squinted at it. "So there's a hole, what's your point?"

"Do you see how it bows outward slightly, like something was shot through it?"

"Yeah," Megure said, setting it back on the white cloth in the forensic officer's hand. "What about it?"

"That's from the metal plug that had sealed the hole shut being shot out by a tremendous pressure behind it. The cylinder had been filled with carbon monoxide gas, and the container would have been sitting somewhere in the engine compartment over something that put off a lot of heat, and as the gas grew hotter it would have expanded. Eventually the pressure would have been high enough to shoot the metal plug out, and as you can see, there's stress on all of the welds from this pressure as well."

"From there," Conan continued, "it was a simple matter of the escaping gasses getting sucked into the cabin air intake vents and being blown inside."

"Ah, Mouri-san," Takagi started. "How do you know it was Carbon Monoxide?"

"The discoloration of the victims face and fingertips. They're unnaturally red, and even if it was just a normal blush, the blood would have drained away by now. Also, his erratic driving was a major clue. It showed that his reaction time had been greatly slowed, and that he wasn't thinking clearly. Almost as if he were drunk, or even-"

Conan was cut off abruptly as a near deafening yawn ripped through the air. He held his ears, only to realize it didn't help in the slightest. He yanked his glasses off, the sound now barely audible. It only took him a moment to remember that his bug was still stuck in Kogoro's shirt pocket. A confused looking Kogoro all but stumbled out of the car a handful of seconds later. "Wha'sall the racket about?" he asked, barely even half-coherent.

"Another great deduction, Mouri-san!" Megure yelled, clapping him on the back, nearly sending him off balance and tumbling to the ground. Kogoro took a few seconds to catch on to what was happening, then seemed to be instantly awake.

"It was nothing for the great Sleeping Kogoro!" he shouted, clapping a fist against his chest.

Unbeknownst to the others gathered around, congratulating the detective, Conan was letting out a sigh, his shoulders falling and a kink that'd built up in his gut relaxing. _Well at least the rest doesn't really matter, _he thought. He slid his glasses back in place, remembering at the last second to mute the microphone so that he wasn't subjected to the sonic boom of a shameless laugh that was sure to follow Kogoro's boasting. _All they have to do is search the container for fingerprints. It didn't seem like they would have thought to wipe their prints off of the inside portions of the end pieces, so hopefully they'll still be there_.

* * *

_Epilogue_

Two days later, Hideki Ayami, an apprenticing mechanic, was arrested when the prints taken off of the canister were traced back to him. His prints were in the system thanks to a bar fight he'd gotten into a couple years ago.

When confronted with the evidence while he was working at the garage, he attempted to flee but was apprehended when Shiratori tackled him to the ground. He later confessed, and when asked why he'd killed Ide Konzo, he said it was because his girlfriend had been cheating on him, sneaking over to Ide's house whenever she got the chance. However, not only did his girlfriend turn out to be Ide's wife, but Ide had been the sender of the anonymous letter.

And so, in the end, one woman's adulterous game had ended in the loss of one life, and the destruction of another.

* * *

**A/N: The epilogue thing wasn't _too_ bad, was it? I tacked that on at the last minute, to make sure that the case had some closure to it and everything came around full circle, because I wasn't sure how to write that out in 'story form'... if that makes sense. If you didn't like it, lemme know and I'll tweak the ending around to try and, well, figure out how to do it in story form. :P**_  
_

**- - - - Theories! - - - - **

** So, seeing as how there's not much else to discuss in the way of Akai, I was wondering... Does anyone have any _other_ theories they might want to share?**

**I came across one in a forum a little bit ago (one I don't believe personally) that says that Kogoro _knows _he isn't solving the cases... and knows exactly who is. And guess when this little revelation comes about? Yes! Episode 580 - The Black Time Limit Drawing Near. The SAME case that most of our Akai theorizing comes from! (That's the one with the bombs in the store with the red shirts.) **

**Because, of course, Kogoro wakes up before the reveal is complete, and we don't know when. He just suddenly opens his eyes and starts talking, which also means that he must have heard enough of what the checkout lady was saying to reply to her, so he was awake with his eyes closed, staying still and silent, for an unknown amount of time. Also, he's very solemn as he reads the email on his phone, like his ego had just been dealt a serious blow. (This theory also says - as a side note - that the effectiveness of the tranquilizer has worn down considerably. ****(Or more like Kogoro's resistance to it has risen considerably.) ****Originally it seemed to last for more than fifteen minutes/half an hour after the case was done and over with, and now he's waking up before it's even resolved.) Just something to think about, I suppose.**

**Oh, and here's one I found ALL BY MYSELF. Yes, I know, I'm shocked too. I was watching this clip on youtube of episode 473 when Yukiko and Toichi are having lunch(?). Then, Toichi asks if she could take a note home to Yusaku. She says that, oddly enough, Yusaku had given her a message to give to him. She then went on to say (paraphrasing here) "The funny thing is-" but Toichi cuts her off, grinning, saying "It's only one character, isn't it?" And she says "Yeah, how did you know?" and pulls out a card with an exclamation mark on it. Toichi reveals his to have a question mark on it. Toichi's message meant "Do you think you'll be able to stop me?" and Yusaku's meant "Yes, I think I will!", as revealed by their 'thoughts'.  
**

** That's when I realized that Yusaku KNEW TOICHI WAS KID. And it certainly wasn't a relationship like Hakuba and Kuroba have where Yusaku said he was and Toichi denied it, because Toichi seemed to fully acknowledge the fact. Really, it almost seems like that question mark card was meant to _tell_ Yusaku in case he didn't already know. So, that makes me wonder, why? From there... Well, I would say, but I think one of those scenarios just might work its way into this story. (My storylines are always very flexible. XD)**

**So, if I can come up with those two off the top of my head, how much might I have missed? Let all of us know in a review! ^_^**


	12. Fun and Games

**A/N: Welcome back to the story again, everyone! I rather like this chapter personally, though I'm not sure how I portrayed a certain someone who's first name ends in an 'a'. See if you can find out who I mean. :P**

**As usual, if you see something out of character, or a spg problem, or bla bla bla, you guys don't want to read this. But, I DO want to hear from you! So, if you see anything, hit that super-duper-wonderfulest review button in the world... And I'll stop saying things like ****super-duper-wonderfulest. Deal?**

**Especially since there are a lot of characters in this chapter that I've never written before, and if I'm doing something wrong, I'd like to know now before I can do it any more. ^_^  
**

**- - - - Reviews! - - - - **

**Chelseaj500: Merely an arc epilogue. I have this story broken into three distinct sections, and we're still in part _one_. ;D**

**Serial-Doodler: Glad to see you liked it, and here's to hoping that I don't stray from that path.**

**ZXCVBNMEM: Indeed it was. Indeed, it was.**

**psykostevey999: I have been wondering. ^_^ I was mainly interested in Artemis Fowl fanfiction when I joined, so I made an Artemis Fowl name. Ironic that I've now at least started a story for nearly all of my top 5 fandoms, and still haven't started a Fowl fic. Hmm, you just got me thinking... Little random inspiration there. I wonder what an Artemis Fowl X Detective Conan crossover would be like? Might have to see if there are any good ones...**

**Elena Forest: Phew, *sweatwipe* I'm glad. I tend to have trouble with lots of dialog. I'm glad it came out ok! ^_^ That was actually inspired by the theory I posted below the last chapter. (And continue to discuss on this one.)**

**Angel in Exile: Well, if you're still reading this I hope you're still enjoying it! : ) If you see it again anywhere and point out the passage, I'll be more than happy to correct it. Problem is, I've read all of these chapters and unpublished versions of these chapters so many times that I can just about recite them, and I can never seem to find any grammar errors after about the fifth draft. XD**

* * *

"H-hey, I was only-" With a surprised yelp, Kaito ducked as a particularly large hardcover textbook flew by his head, so close a surge of displaced air ruffled his hair.

"Don't you dare _'I was only'_ me!" Aoko seethed with a mocking tone, chucking another book with as much power as she could put behind it.

"I didn't mean it like that!" he yelled in between dodging, jumping, and occasionally ducking behind one desk only to reappear behind another a moment later, books flying at him all the while.

"Stay still!" Another book was launched his way which he dodged with ease, though it very nearly nailed some very fortunate girl in the face. Or unfortunate, depending on how you looked at the situation.

Ishizuki, their history teacher, could only hang her head and sigh in discontent as the classroom turned its full attention to today's show. The only thing to do was wait, either for Aoko to exhaust her rage or Kaito to pull some trick and disappear. That was how these fights were usually resolved. Her money was on Kaito dropping a smoke bomb and jumping out the window, since the victor seemed to alternate from fight to fight, and she'd heard from their math professor that Tuesday's quarrel had ended with Aoko getting a hold of Kaito's shirt collar.

"I only asked why you would wear something too small for you! I never said you were fa-" he was cut off by another book, ducking for cover as it slammed into the wall behind him. By the time he looked up again, he had the smallest fraction of a second to move before a mop smacked the spot on the floor where he used to be.

By this point, Aoko was turning shades of red that would've made her father proud, and her only response to anything Kaito said was to swing even harder as she tried to close the gap between them. "It was one of my favorite shirts, and it still fits _fine_!"

"Ok, ok, time out!" Kaito yelled, jumping on top of Hakuba's desk. Hakuba himself was staring at the back of the magician's head as if he'd finally lost all sense. It took the detective a moment to realize that Aoko probably should have been demanding just a little bit more of his attention. As it were, he hadn't even noticed what was about to happen until it was too late to escape. Aoko brought the handle up and Hakuba mentally calculated the odds of Kaito jumping from his perch once Aoko swung, resulting in his own forehead becoming uncomfortably acquainted with a mop's handle. He almost wished he hadn't.

That was when Aoko froze in place, mop still poised to strike, eyes growing to the size of saucers. Hakuba zeroed in on Kaito's outstretched hand, seeing that two small slips of paper were poking a little ways out of the top of his fist.

"Are those...?" Aoko trailed off, mop falling forgotten to the ground as her grip slackened, then jumped forward and snatched a piece of the paper out of his hand.

"Two tickets to the Two-Mix Christmas Eve concert?" Kaito asked, a grin splitting his face like a jack-o-lantern. "Yep."

Aoko practically shrieked, pulling him off of Hakuba's desk, swinging him around a few times before setting him down.

Then Kaito, in what Hakuba was certain was a perfect imitation of a voice he'd heard on an infomercial sometime last night, continued saying "But wait, there's more! Agree to come with me now, and you'll get-" he shook his left hand up and down twice, and on the third shake two ID badges appeared in his upturned palm, a quick wink following shortly. "-Backstage Passes!"

She was bouncing up and down as she snatching a pass as well. "Kaito! You're awesome!" she all but sang as she tried to keep her excitement from physically tearing her apart.

_So Nakamori-san is a big Two-Mix fan?_ Hakuba wondered. _Good to know._

"I'm curious," Hakuba asked. "Just how _did_ you get those tickets, Kuroba-kun?"

Aoko stopped buzzing with glee, if only for the moment, to listen. The tickets _had_ sold out in all of ten minutes, and Kaito _was _known for his realistic props. _If these tickets are fake, so help me... _

Kaito, thankfully unable to hear the thoughts bouncing around in Aoko's head, most involving things he would find rather unpleasant, continued on with an undertone of annoyance at Hakuba's interruption. "I know a guy that works on their special effects. Smoke, pyrotechnics, stuff like that. He said that they'd given him a couple of tickets to give to some friends, and that's about it. I got 'em in the mail yesterday."

_Well, it sounds plausible enough, I suppose,_ Hakuba thought. But he was hardly about to start believing him simply because the scenario he'd described was less than impossible. _'The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence', as the saying goes._

"Ahem."

The class finally turned back to the distressed looking teacher, drumming her fingers on her desk. "Kuroba-san? Nakamori-san? Would you like another few minutes, or could you allow us all the courtesy of getting back to work?"

Kaito, ever the opportunist, said "Actually, I think we'll need about another 10 seconds. Right Aoko? Hakuba?"

Everyone stared at him in mild confusion but, knowing Kaito, figured he probably had something planned. Just as Ishizuki was about to tell him to either get to his seat or the principle's office, his choice, the bell rang shrill and loud as the clock struck 3:00. Kaito pulled his backpack out from under Hakuba's desk, when it had gotten there nobody was really sure, then slung it over his shoulder and headed out the door as the rest of the class began to rise. He turned and waved as their teacher seemed to be taking calming breathes. "See you Monday, Sensei!"

As he walked out the door, she banged her head against the chalkboard. Repeatedly.

* * *

Conan was staring ahead into the darkness as the sound of footsteps echoed in an abandoned building, growing steadily louder with every passing second. He could only see a small slice of the floor outside the small room he was tucked inside, but that was enough to see the illumination of a flashlight's glow, growing brighter as the steps grew nearer. There was no reason for them to check around the corner. The building was supposed be empty. He should be safe.

That was when the steps stopped, right outside of the room he'd chosen to hide in. Then they picked up again, coming straight in his direction, ready to appear around the corner any moment. He knew then that the man would find him, and nothing he could do would stop that. There was nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. He knew that the man would either be dressed entirely in white or entirely in black. If it was the former, he was in luck. They might be able to help him, and he would have had no reason for hiding in the first place. But, if it were the latter...

The anticipation didn't last long. The black figure swung in with inhuman speed, red eyes glowing. Before he ever knew he'd been hit, he was dead.

_Why do I even bother?_ Conan wondered, letting the controller fall into his lap with a sigh as 'You Are Dead' flashed across the screen. Meanwhile, Genta was in hysterics, rolling on his back, and Mitsuhiko looked like he might be joining him soon from the way he clutched at his side.

"You _suck_!" Genta howled.

Even Ayumi was trying to muffle a fit of giggles in the crook of her arm as she laid against the arm of the couch.

"Maybe someone else should have a turn?" Haibara suggested, trying to look disinterested as she licked a finger in preparation to flip the page of her magazine, but the barest hint of a smirk still showed through.

The Shounen Tantei-dan had all been called to Agasa's house after school, the promise of a new game enticing the true children, while giving Conan an excuse to come over. He was curious to see what the professor had for him, though usually it could be broken down into two possibilities. He was either getting a new gadget, or his head was going to be nearly blown off by an explosion. He estimated that the odds were about 50-50. However, they'd been there for over an hour now, and the professor had disappeared to somewhere in the basement as soon as he was done greeting everybody, and nobody had seen or heard from him since.

"Fine," Conan said, the hint of a whine crawling into his voice. He picked the remote up and held it above his head, not really caring who took it next. There was the sound of two people suddenly jumping forward, but Genta was nearer and grabbed it first, leaving Mitsuhiko to pout next to him, arms crossed over his chest.

Conan stood from his cross-legged position on the floor in front of the tv to reclaim his earlier position on the couch, jumping up to the middle seat in between the two girls. He noticed Haibara look up for a brief moment, looking nonplussed as his sudden motion and weight caused her to shift in her seat, then gaze back down at her magazine, her bored scanning of fashion accessories resuming. He had a vastly more obvious reactions from Ayumi, however. He hadn't missed the way her muffled, bubbly laughter had cut off abruptly as he'd taken up the space next to her, and she'd gone as straight and still as a metal rod.

Before long all of them had once again turned their attention back to the game, with the exception of Haibara, still reading the same page of her magazine for the last ten minutes, and Ayumi, who was lost in her own fantasies. Gunshots were not an uncommon sound as Genta navigated through the secret passage in the back of a stereotypical rich villain's mansion. _I didn't even know you could get a gun in that game._

That was when a soft, angelic tune filled the air, and at first Conan thought it was coming from the game as well. But the vibrations coming from deep inside his pocket had nothing to do with any cliche virtual tale of good and evil. A moment later, he'd retrieved his phone from the dark confines of his pocket and had it held up to his ear. "Moshi moshi?"

"Hey Conan-kun," Ran's cheerful voice came from speaker. "Are you still at Agasa-Hakase's house?"

_It's not late, is it?_ he wondered, casting a quick glance at the clock on the wall. _It's only a little after 4:30._ "Yeah," he said hesitantly. "Why?"

"Dad left earlier this morning and locked up the office, and I'm going out shopping so there's nobody to let you in the house."

"Oh," he replied, not really having much else to add.

"I also called to make sure Hakase wouldn't mind looking after you for an extra hour or two. You're over there all the time anyway, but I didn't want to assume anything."

A small smile flickered across his face, gone in the blink of an eye, but there nevertheless. "I was planning on staying a little later than usual anyway. Don't worry about it."

"Oh really?" a familiar voice replied in a suggestive tone that left Conan scratching his head in confusion. Whatever had been meant by that had gone clear over his head.

"Sonoko-neechan?" he called. "Am I on speaker phone?"

But even as he spoke he could hear Ran's indignant call of "Sonoko!" in the background, followed by her demanding Sonoko stop whatever it was that she was doing.

After a series of scratching noises, most of the background noise abruptly cut out, and then it was only Ran's voice that could be heard. Now sounding considerably more annoyed than earlier, Ran continued with what should have been her quick check in.

"Just be sure you're back by dinner, ok Conan-kun?"

"Hai, Ran-neechan!"

There was another bout of giggles from Sonoko as Ran began to speak in a hurried, irritated voice. "Dinner will be around 6:30 tonight, so you should head home a little b- Sonoko!" The phone clicked off after another short bout of scratching noises, and Conan could only assume that Sonoko had tried to take the phone and do or say who-knows-what with it. Holding his own phone away from his head with a sigh, he simply stared at it, flashes of a million similar outings flashing through his mind as his eyes seemed to stare ahead into infinity. Memories of him, Ran and Sonoko doing the simplest little things together.

Memories about Sonoko didn't tend to be particularly pleasant as the two of them had spent more time arguing than not, but at least he had still _been _there. A small reminiscent smirk worked its way over his features. _And apparently she's still just as annoying as ever._ Then it fell, reminiscence turning to yearning. _I can't believe it's been nearly two years since the three of us were like that... It seems like yesterday._

"So, what did she say?" Haibara asked without even glancing in his direction.

Conan fell back to reality, blinking the daydreams from his eyes and sliding the phone back into the depths of his pocket. He could feel a pair of eyes trained on him, and when he glanced over at Ayumi she looked away quickly, a slight blush already coloring her cheeks. He idly wondered how long she'd been staring at him before turning his attention back to Haibara. "Not much. She just said that I'll have to stay a little late so that she can go shopping with Sonoko-neechan."

"Mmm..." she hummed, flipping a page of her magazine once more, looking pensive. "I'll have to ask Hakase to take me shopping soon," she all but whispered. "Scarves seem to be popular this year."

"I thought people only wore scarves to keep warm?" Conan said disinterested.

She turned, folding the spine backwards and holding the page out, finger prodding the image of a fairly normal looking scarf. "Then why would someone pay ¥4,900 for one?"

"What!" If he had been drinking something, Haibara would have probably been wearing it. "You've got to be kidding me!"

She reclaimed her magazine, a flick of her wrist sending the current page whipping back to expose the next. "Boy's just have no eye for fashion."

"If that means I don't have to spend ¥5,000 on a _scarf_, then that's perfectly fine with me."

Haibara remained silent, for once not having some sarcastic retort at the ready, and Conan didn't feel the need to continue the current vein of conversation.

"No, left!"

Ayumi's sudden shout was enough to make Conan jump, and it took him a moment for him to realize she was yelling at Genta, who seemed to be on a sort of science-fiction inspired jet ski, trying to escape a swarm of what appeared to be giant, radioactive piranha, through a series of dark caverns. At a T-intersection, Genta turned off to the right, where he slammed into a rock wall and blew up in a massive fireball.

"Told you," she sing-songed, Mitsuhiko happily taking over and creating a new profile. Genta grumbled something, he himself the only person that knew what he was truly saying.

The time was displayed next to Mitsuhiko's new name, 17:02, and Conan finally decided he'd waited long enough for the professor to reappear. He hopped down, excusing himself to the bathroom, then slipped off toward the back of the room where both the hallway and the door to the basement were. Opening the door quietly, he slipped into the dark staircase, pushing up on the handle to keep the hinges from squeaking as he closed it behind him.

* * *

** - - - - Theories - - - - **

**Just a note about something I said last chapter under this Theories section. The way I phrased it kind of makes it sound like Kogoro building up a resistance to the tranquilizer is just a theory, but it's not. ^_^ If anyone remembers episodes 354-355, they should know that Kogoro is, in fact, building up a resistance. And on that subject, I can't ever remember that coming into play again, and Gosho _never _does something without a reason. Maybe there's more to that theory than I'd first thought... hmmm... Comments? Thoughts?**


	13. The Cellphones of Good and Evil

**A****/N: Hiya everyboooody! Not much to this one, but things do get a little more mysterious.  
But next? That's right! KID!**

**And, with that perfec****t segue (not)**** I think I've found the two funniest _-R rated-_ (****yes, that's simply another way to say "contains sex jokes") ****Conan-related videos on youtube.  
No, scratch that last part. On youtube _period_.**

**watch?v=IXnfC7uPhRY**  
**watch?v=C8Dpcg0-bjg**

**Anyway, this is one of my shortest chapters so far (in _this_ story anyway), and certainly not my best, but I couldn't really think of anything else to throw in there. (That wasn't blatant filler.)**

**Also, I apologies for being a little late, but I do have a good reason: My sister went into labor early Tuesday morning****! Everyone, send your love to little baby Camden! (Though I admit, I have no idea if that's how it's spelled or not. XD That's just phonetic.) That also means most of this was written at 3 A.M. in a hospital waiting room, so if you see any errors or ways to improve the chapter, kindly point them out if you would. : ) The laptop keyboard doesn't like me. DX**

**The usual quality rant still applies, it's just in addition to that. ;D  
**

**- - - - Reviews! - - - - **

**Chelseaj500: Thank you! I really do appreciate the reviews. They help me power through the harder parts of writing these out. XD And good points, too. But Aoyama-sensei, lord of suspense, is the only one who can say for sure. And that means It'll probably be 30 years before we know.**

**ZXCVBNMEM: Thanks! : ) I'm actually planning on majoring in Computer Engineering and AI, so that I can be a game developer. That's the 'big dream'.**

**Angel in Exile: I'll break these down by chapter.**  
**Chap 6: Well, you have seen through at least episode 309, right? Hehe and I have reasons for doing what I do, and it's not entirely OOC for him to get carried away whenever Ran and Kogoro are MIA. And it was definitely my lucky day, for getting a review like that! :D**  
**chap 10: Hehe well thanks! I like to hear it. ^_^ And now you know my evil plotting reasons for making him a little showy. :P**  
**chap 12: Yesss, it was mostly a chance to let me get used to writing as them. I think I have most of them ok, but oddly enough the characters I've had the most trouble writing are Hakuba, Agasa and Mitsuhiko. Which sucks, 'cause most of this chapter is nothing but a conversation between Conan and Agasa. XD**

* * *

"You... want me to erase them?" a male voice asked, shaking not out of fear, but its closest cousin; Nervousness. However, before he'd even given the woman on the other end of the line a chance to respond, he spoke again with a sudden surge of determination. "I understand. They'll be gone by midnight."

Though unseen, the woman still sported a dangerous, venomous smirk as she leaned back in her chair. "So fast?" she purred. "I'm impressed."

The man's shaking only intensified as he pulled up a missing persons report as anger took root, sending its burning furry coursing through his veins. "Can I talk to her?" he rasped. "How is she? Did you hurt her?" His questions only seemed to amuse the woman on the other end.

"Now, now, settle down Keiji," she said in that same casual, sultry manner that had infuriated him from the first time she'd ever called. "The deal was, you do what I ask, and I don't hurt her. Twenty questions wasn't included."

The man was silent, if only for a moment, then started out in a harsh whisper of a voice, "If I can't talk to her, how do I know she's still alive? How do I know you ever even had her to begin with!"

"Those are good points," the woman mused, bored of his games by this point. A devilish grin split her face, one that would have sent chills down anyone's spine if only they had seen it. "But not as good as mine. What if she _is _alive, and what if I _do _have her?"

His unused hand was fisted by his side, and it was taking a surprising amount of willpower to keep from smashing something.

"That's a good boy," she crooned. "I'll be expecting the case to be forgotten by midnight." The phone went dead, but the man still held it to his ear, listening to the high pitched beeping play again and again. He held it there, unaware of time passing him by, his stomach churning.

When he did finally slide his cellphone closed, he set it by the keyboard. Turning unseeing eyes to his monitor he ran his fingers through his hair. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Whether they were born of fear or rage or both, he didn't know, and frankly didn't care. He only had two hours now to erase everything, or else...

_No. I won't let that happen. I'll play along for now, but I'll find that witch, whoever the hell she is. And when I do...  
_

Somewhere, miles and miles away, Vermouth sat in her favorite chair sipping her namesake with a contented sigh.

* * *

"Hakase?" Conan hissed, staying to the edge of the steps as he made his way down. He was trying to keep from stepping on any weak, squeaky boards that the others might hear. "Hakase?" he called a little louder once he was safely at the bottom of the steps. He scanned the room over when he got no response, finding the slumped form of the professor, half sitting in his chair and half laying on the workbench strewn with various leftover bits of metal and plastic. "Oi! Hakase!"

The professor let out a mighty snort, sitting up, eyes half lidded and marginally crossed. "Ai-kun?" he half asked and half mumbled, almost unintelligible behind a yawn. He blinked, apparently noticing that the world was far blurrier than it had been before he'd fallen asleep. The next thing he knew, the familiar plastic frames were being pressed into his hand, and upon sliding them home found Conan looking up at him, exasperation lurking behind his gaze. "Oh! Conan-kun!" He called, shoulders relaxing minutely as he let out a relieved breath. "Did you need something?"

Conan took note of his odd behavior and the bags under his eyes, and figured that most likely whatever the professor wanted to show him had been costing him some precious hours of sleep. "You were the one that asked me to come over, you know," he said dryly.

The professor looked vaguely confused for a moment, before his memory seemed to catch up with him. "Oh!" He said with a snap of his fingers. "Of course, the phone!"

"Phone?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's around here... Somewhere..."

The professor went to stand up, a joint crackling here and there as he _had_ fallen asleep in a fairly unorthodox position, then swept aside some of the blackened scrap metal on the table. "I finished it around noon...", he paused just long enough to yawn. "And then I guess I just fell asleep," he finished with a sheepish smile. He sifted through the scrap pieces of materiel he had laying around, until finally he pulled something red out of the mess. "Ah, there you are!"

He held the cellphone up between the two of them, Conan giving it a once over. He realized immediately that it looked just like the two already sitting in his pocket. _Just_, like them. With his critical eye, he noticed that there was a scratch etched into the display that was the exact same size and in the exact same shape as one he'd gotten on his 'Conan' phone just a few days ago. He held a hand out, asking the professor to hand it to him. He turned it again and again through his hands, looking for any differences and coming up short.

"It's a great duplicate," he started slowly. _Indistinguishable_ was more like it. "But I'm guessing this isn't a back up in case I drop my phone in a fountain."

The professor's shoulders shook with a quiet, bassy laugh. "No, not quite."

"So, what does it do?"

"Do you have your bowtie on you right now?" Agasa answered with a question of his own.

"No, I didn't think I'd need it. Besides, " he pulled on the front of his pale yellow T-shirt. "T-shirts and bowties don't really go together." He paused, eyes darting to the door leading back into the living room where a certain strawberry blond sat, then muttered just loud enough for the cranky undertones to be discernible "Even if I don't have any fashion sense, I still know that much."

Agasa, deciding to ignore that last bit for the sake of the conversation, carried on. "Um, right... Well, that's the point. There are a lot of times when you can't wear your bowtie, and if anyone ever found out you carried it around in your pocket..." he let his sentence hang.

"So, a cellphone voice changer then, huh?" he asked, rubbing a fingertip over the smooth plastic casing. "So I just set up a voice and make a call or...?" Taking a cue from the older man, Conan let his sentence hang, dragging out the final syllable.

The professor took the phone back, holding it so that Conan could easily see the buttons. "You just hold down the pound key for three seconds," and here he did so, moving one of his larger-sized fingers over the key in question. "And the voice changer's options pop up." Said options appeared as if on cue. "There's all of your old options, like age, gender, pitch, and they all work exactly as they used to."

Conan nodded, giving a short grunt of acknowledgment.

"And then there's this one, " he continued, moving a finger to hover above the 'record' option. "It's pretty self explanatory, really. If you record a person's voice, the settings will automatically be set to reproduce it."

Conan hummed a quiet "hmm," taking the phone and going through the motions he'd just been shown. "Hold pound, and that's it?" he asked, the last word being projected with a shrill feminine voice.

"That," the professor said with a proud smile. "And it still works with your button speaker. Not to mention, you can set the record up to use the microphone on your glasses."

Over the next few minutes the professor went on to explain the rest of the intricacies and operational limits of the new device, and when all was finally said and over with, Conan still had one question left.

"By the way, didn't you say you had something else to show me?"

"Oh, that?" he asked, trying to seem surprised by the change in topic. But one thing anyone who'd ever known the professor could tell you about him, was that he couldn't act to save his life. "That's not important," he went on in the same unconvincing tones, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "Though I was curious about the Kid riddle. How is it coming along?"

The abrupt change of subject could have been obvious to a rather sharp-minded toddler, but Conan decided to drop it. It wasn't that his curiosity wasn't slowly consuming him, feeding on his very insides with the intensity of white hot fire, but rather that he trusted the professor completely. Whatever it was, it was _definitely_ important. But, it was also something the professor didn't want to share. That didn't mean he was giving up on finding out what it was, he'd probably hang on the man's every word now, but he wasn't going to bring it up, either.

Realizing in some hazy recess of his mind that he still hadn't answered his question, he decided to start talking before the stretch could become too noticeable. "It's coming along fine," he said, feigning nonchalance, though his performance was actually believable. "The date was easy. _'On the eve of the exterminator's return'_ means tomorrow night. _Eve,_ meaning it will happen at night, and_ exterminator_ likely means a terminator that has already passed. A terminator in this case being the name of the dividing line between the light and dark sides of the moon. Seeing as how the lunar cycle starts with a new moon, if the terminator has already passed that puts it on the night of a full moon. Since the terminator will be returning, it'll be the _last_ night of the full moon. And the last night of the full moon this month is the 23'rd, tomorrow."

Agasa nodded along, grasping chunks of logic as Conan's explanations flew over his head, out the window, and were likely making good headway on their quest to escape earth's gravity.

His brows pulled together then, a slight quark of the lips something between a scowl and a frown taking shape, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, the other part is trickier. _'When two becomes one'_ could mean just about anything from marriage to advanced mathematics, and _'time itself will guide me'_ isn't much better. If I had to guess, I'd probably say it had something to do with the position of the moon or the hands on a clock, though I'm not sure he'd make his entire notice about the moon. That would be too easy."

"Do you have any ideas about the second note?" Agasa asked.

Conan shook his head, leaning his chin on his palm. "All I can tell is that the part where he talks about us is probably a set up, like his last heist notice. But..." Every time that thought occurred to him, he had a vivid memory of the Kaitou Kid, dressed in his black street clothes, holding the cold steel of a fake gun against the back of his head. "But a magician never pulls the same trick in front of the same audience twice."


End file.
